Don’t be coming here
to hunt your prey
since this is my turf,
listen to what I say.
If you come ’round again
there will soon come a day
when the hunted becomes you,
’cause I’ll make you pay.
That bird that you maul
and the chipmunk you chase
are my friends not yours
so get out of my face.
Go back to your own house
and leave me to mine
or you’ll soon learn about
why I sharpen my claws so fine.
Autumn Siders 