Tyson’s pig boys

Pigs and piglets suffer so
Our truculency now how we throw
Piglets about like tennis balls
Manhandled like a bunch of fools
These are miracles created well
Tiny sentient a magic spell
4 little legs a curly tail
And beautiful eyes that never fail

And yet at Tysons what do they do
They are Spiteful and vicious in front of you
Showing so much severity
Outrageous behaviour and brutality
They clearly mean harm
They kick and they punch
On their little faces
You can hear the crunch
Full grown men beating a piglet around
Its tiny cries and its terrible sound

The confined biting bars
Going mad seeing stars
Gestation crates in terrible states
Sweet pregnant sows
They could be ours
But sadly they are
Nobody’s star

You can feel the anger
The frustration so real
They gouge out a pigs eyes
Clearly they feel
Nothing, just hoodlums
Caught up in this place
A bowling ball thrown
In one poor sows face

Little pink babies wriggling they
Have been just discarded just thrown away
Its their dance of death lost and forlorn
Nobody loves them from life they are torn
Ghoulish and fiendish and devilish too
Their testicles torn off thats what we do
Not a painkiller in sight what a sin
And all those little bollocks just tossed in a bin

How we are treating the animals we
Give over to food it so upsets me
A pregnant sow kicked and squashed in an aisle
And continually kicked he just did defile
The female spirit it sickens me so
To watch her manhandled blow after blow

She cries and she whimpers a baby inside
This Tysons employee I suppose denied
Cruelty here such a vile piece of muck
Who needs a good kicking his behaviour did suck

In these vile CAFO sheds where these pigs find their place
Kicked up the arse and punched in the face
Probably everyday this is the thing
Cruelty reigns thats where its king

Look into their eyes they reach heaven and hell
Open your nostrils can you bear to smell
The death and destruction the evil thats there
The pork on your fork on your plates of despair

Where is your pity where is your love
These poor souls are left to look up above
To dream if they still can of blue skies and rain
And to hope that if not they can just go insane

When you are stuck in a shed of smells and disease
Surrounded by maggots and lice and fleas
Up to your hocks in the shit you released
And thats where they throw your supposed feast

Mans far from kind to describe him this way
Is truthfully wrong he’s a monster today
Maybe some years ago he could have been
But now my description he is obscene

These animals live in wild places outdoors
Their skin a shade dirty but plagued with those
sores
Never they are clean they dump far away
But in factory farms there is nothing to say

Pork at the end of your fork
Means that you
If you saw where they live
You would never chew
On their spare ribs or legs
Covered in mess, loaded with flies
And maggots and stress

They live in a shit hole they bleed
In there too
Their water is filthy
Their blood filthy and you
Want to eat from their bodies
Thats such a mistake
What I write here really is just for your sake