The rain is falling softly all around the garden, see the roses creep
The house is dark except for one small window glowing, he is not asleep
Working late as usual, sewing skins and making eyes [bad word] creatures on display to win a prize
Recreating every kind of beast
Using canvas blue and bits of wire underneath the hides
Beasts pieced together with such painful care, [bad word] everywhere he goes

Lazerander Filchy is his name, and taxidermy is his trade
Never does he make two of the same, his work is of the highest grade
He's got it made.

Time is sleeping while he's prowling in the night, how stealthily he creeps
The taxidermist lies in wait for you and me, he always plays for keeps
Lurking in the murky glow, always cool, he went to school
Only hunting on the darkest evenings as [bad word]  he's no fool
Soon he's back he's brought in from the night
On the laboratory specimen working by the candlelight reflected in his burning eyes
He isn't otherwise disposed

Lazerander Filchy is his name, and taxidermy is his trade
Never let him catch you in his game, you'll end up in his dream arcade
You're not ?

"Грязня работа" Мура имеет тут сюжетные параллели