no one wants to be the fat girl 
friend, ‘cause something must be wrong 
with her, some sickness slowing down 
her pace, she’ll get us 
killed with her wheezing, the predator 
comes when it hears the call 
of our teasing, then we bolt 
from the sacrificial lamb, let her 
die where we lead her, 
 
survival of the fittest the subconscious 
mantra fueling our revolted fear.