Who shot the Badger

If you happen to be wild
And put on God’s Earth
For to share
Your habitat with people
You’ll need much more than prayer
They rant and rave their shotguns
Will blast you from the field
Your hair will fill their shaving brushes
So keep your eyes peeled
Poor Bruin you’ve been persecuted
Far too long by those
Who’ve lost their true environmental knowledge
And their nose
For news that comes with caring
About the other souls
The innocent wee creature’s
Who live deep in their holes
Bruin tends to surface
Around sunset
Nocturnal are it’s habits and it may
Escape the selfish ranting of some farmers
By trying just to keep out of their way
With senses so acute like some illusion
They dissapear and re-appear at will
But seldom venture out during the sunlight
Their varied diet does mean that their still
Healthy with the macrobiotic wisdom
In their psyche thus they’re instinct led
The cows are sadly fed by human beings
Who put their margin in the pot
Instead
Of caring about God’s wee children living
Underneath the sod with just so much
Authority to live there
The enforcer, has clearly lost his bottle
And his touch
Down inside the set the family prosper
Passages all round the place are deep
Moss and grass are heaped up for the infants
A haven for the young who love to sleep
Badgers are so clean they do their business
In Toilets they erect them far away
They spring clean out old bedding in the early months
And bury their dead that’s what I’ve heard say
I think it’s really very much more likely
That ignorance and arrogance are now
T.B.has come on back now with a vengeance
To sickly weak man fed souls like the cow