Notes
Oh the beauty of Monkeyville knows nary a match
When the leaves turn red and the monklings have hatched.
They take to the wing and swoop overhead,
Rejoicing with visions of runners soon dead.
All hail these crass primates and their sadistic-esque glee!
And stay wary when thou gloateth high atop Sir Luke Lea.
For if you fall prey to a sly monkey's charms,
You'll ne'er fight him off with your chicken wing arms.