In the days of the caveman

Your tumb and forefinger supposed to show you're not a wilke beast
You can hear their noises at night time
They don't have to keep a certain bedtime

See in the shapes of my body
Leftover parts from the apes and monkeys

Sometimes when I lie awake I hear the rainfall on my tent fly
I think of all the insects that are sleeping
And wonder if the animals are dreaming

In the days of the caveman and mammoths and glaciers
Bugs and trees were your food then; no pyjamas or doctors