One michievous little woodpecker. Another day, pecking your holes, ruining the woods, tree wrecker. The angry old forest god turned your poor beak into a poison knife. Poor little woodpecker, your nesting holes are all tainted... Your food with toxins rife. Touch your friends, and they all will die, falling at your feet. Oh, sad little woodpecker. Poisonous tears, shining brightly, as they stream down your cheeks. //
