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Quick bold drums start out loud 
Pounding out the terms of war 
Race through the frantic jungle thick
Rhythms of pursuit take to the beat

Let the chase begin with heart in mouth
Track down the sun burnt frantic man
Stripped naked by his captives
They pushed him into foliage of the doomed 
Now running through entanglements
                                                                      
Strangled in the vines for ancient crimes
Hate has no boundaries when not of the clan
Primal blood can not be satiated

Carbon men shoot long arrows, cannon fire from the camp
Small dark people with evil minds advance
Send the prey into unkind environments

To grounds and undergrowth with shouts
Demise looms on horizons mist for him
Already tortured from the womb
On pounding feet he bleeds while pressing through
In strange surroundings with open wounds                                       
                                                                
Shots ring out after the enemy make the naked prey
Lay eyes on him in day light with pure hate
Follow every footfall falling on the ground

The ugly trees take a couple of hits
Splinters fly out, shatter living wood, as their demise is sure

Old riffles and loaded guns come with the hunters
Limited only by so many bullets screaming through the trees
To kill their prey, to bring the head back intact
Numbers don't lie.  Momentum is on their side

Why the man has gone missing is a mystery
A cause for strain with sweat and grimace
Small men with evil minds intent become confused

Bugs gather around the fugitive
Make configurations for a meal
Moving keeps him from them and their appetite

He runs in heat with fear and heavy lungs
Filled with humidity he breaths no peace

Keeping quiet requires concentration
The wind must cease to speak for silence
Hiding is a science

Snakes want more than the mosquito
No time to turn about or study wings or feet-less creatures
Insects survive by flying from disaster
He follows them into the swamp
Lives under water for awhile
A long hollow reed for breathing
Comfortable for a time with larva breeding
Tickling his frail and fragile body
There is nothing wrong with wanting to survive
Life, like bullets, fly by
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