Gloucestershire
So close to home
Distress no less
No where to roam
Farewell mother
Mother dear
In created kennels
We appear
Tagged ears the pain
We cry alone
Standing still
Our buckets blown
Upside down
By wind and rain
We are lost
Nothing to gain
From this life sadly
Nothing at all
Nobody out there
Hears our call
Raised for veal
On milky slop
Sooner or later
For the chop
Tortured babies
Tortured so
For tender flesh
Didn’t you know?
We are crying
every day
Waiting for
our time to pray
So you can eat us
That we know
This diet makes our muscles
Weak
For it’s tenderness
that you all seek
We fill your guts with such desire
We fill your hearts with added fire
We spill our guts into your stew
We add to your confusion too
Tormented calves
you call us veal
And Christ help you
For the way we feel