Ortolan Buntings

Guormands a name applied to those
With impure thoughts
Whose shameless nose
Whose grossness and salacious ways
Offer a bawdy unwholesome phase
Called murder in the first degree
The Ortolan Bunting a bird who be
Migrating to Africa every year
And is netted in Landes in France
I hear.

The choralling sweetness so freely shared
Is violated and rarely spared
Though banned in 1999
Like fox hunting here
The bastards dine
On chaffinch and
Brambling and Goldfinch too
And the ortolan screams
Its lifetime through

Such fear is caused to the victims who
Have their eyes put out for what they do
To create eternal night so they
Have no thoughts to fly away
Force fed to increase their fat reserves
Gavage a villianous play on nerves
Drowned in Armagnac marination
The unrelenting constipation
Ready to roast 8 minutes or more
Of gathering clouds and ensuing gore

Half a million are caught and killed
Chomped and chewed their blood is spilled
By bitchy cussed viperous scruffs
Scowling snarling barking buffs
Unable to see the beauty they
The billing and cooing and loving way
They share their songs on a cloudy morn
Repayed by a squalid net at dawn

Such churlishness that they display
A napkin worn in such a way
To prevent the juices evaporating
These gluttons are just celebrating
Their destruction of a soul
Created to sing and to roundly tell
Their story to the world at large
With their fashionable camouflage

The arrogance of these French men
So much baggage really when
Characterless such odious creeps
From their pores the evil seeps
They demean themselves in the coarsest way
With illegal dishes for which they pay
A ransom that discredits all
And take their own eyes off the ball

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