Laying beside a dead giraffe

You smile our friend cries
Laments his short life
You dressed in camouflage
Somebody’s wife

Really who’d have you?
Another canned hunter
Who knows about hunting
A canned hunting punter

Willing to pay 20grand
For a shot
And to lay like a stiff
Which clearly your not

What a sick troll you are
Lying still on the ground
It’s a shame a weird spider
Hasn’t yet found

Your trouser bottoms
And crawled up to see
What a terrible person
You are actually

And pressed it’s dire fangs
Bitten you blue and left you to rot
With the giraffe, cos they do

Bite into women
Who kill jungle friends
And the pain drives them bonkers
And hopefully sends

Them off to the funny farm
Where they belong
Laying beside their conquest
Which is so wrong