But the goat, on which the lot fell for the demon Azazel, shall be presented alive before the Lord, to make atonement through it, and to let him go for Azazel into the desert. -- Leviticus 6:10

I kicked the shithouse over in the night,
And ate your kitchen garden in the day;
I made the dogs tuck tale and slink away;
I butted every god-damned thing in sight.
I ate the drying laundry off the line
(You think that’s just a myth? The hell you know!)
Burned incense in the fire down below
And made each winsome doe and nanny mine.
I am the most piss-poor excuse for goat
That ever fouled a farmyard; hate me if
You will. My sins are mine. But just one whiff
Of expiation rite, and I am out.
You put your filth on me, it won’t go well;
You bear your own damned sins to Azazel.