The barn was almost bare
And autumnally bloated with draft.
There was a hole they couldn't be bothered knocking a plank of wood over to keep any more
stock from going off.

But they could knock up their wives with no problem at all -
More grubby mouths to feed, more grabby hands at the table...
The animals knew this.
The animals wanted revenge.

Stoked by ammunition
Their fleets like pigs hearts fleet
Trotters, hooves, spider webbed feet
The humans under attack as the Sunday banquet made knives out of horns and teeth
Revenge was sweet like people meat.