Rat's Battlecry

He was like his dad, they say
But really, he was like his brother too
And his neighbor, and his friends
And even you

He was a vagabond, a stray
A good for nothin’ stealin’ screw
With not even a lick of sense
So just like you

And he would run away
with new adventures to pursue
And then, behind the garden fence,
we heard a mew

A little rat
was on a mission
He had run, and won
his competition
with the cat

Sixteen years of
running rats down streets
had left the cat
with little heartbeats
still to spare

He died
Right then and there

I pray
that you have thought
this chasing through

Thomas Mook