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Trap. Catching their young.

We’re coming for you.

Apes. Open their skulls.

We’re looking for grease

Their brain. Feast on their heads.

We feed. Now we are strong

Our teeth are sharp enough.

Your skin is sweet and tastes

So familiar.

Run,

Worried, poor tiny things

Slain before your weaning.

Fallen, picked from the trees.

You run.

Mourn your children, slow monkeys.

Watching them die.

Seeing our power over thee.

Catching their young.

Their brain. Feast on their heads

We feed. Now we are strong

Our teeth are sharp enough.

Your skin is sweet and tastes

So familiar

Open their skulls.

Feast on their heads.

Open their skulls.

Now we are strong.