Wool I do what

We bleed from our arses
We bleed from our crutch
With wounds on our body
That pain us so much
Our wool is our body
They say when its time
We are lifted and slammed down
Into the grime

It hurt so, it bruised me
I am not use to that
He put his whole force onto me
He was fat
And heavy and brutal and nasty as well
His breath it was acrid
He came straight from hell

The sound of those clippers
He pulled at my hair he tore at my skin
He just didn’t care
Ripping my wool off my body
Until
He caused me long lesions that weep and that spill

He stinks of tobacco and is sweaty
With grime
He picks me up crazily
This one this time
Is one awful toe rag
This I can say
Who clearly is earning
Piece work today

He tears at me ruptures my skin
And I feel
Terribly sore and I can reveal
A lot of pain as he throws me around
I try hard to cope without making
A sound

Soon it is over my wool on the floor
Yes it is bloodstained, and, theres some gore
Bits of my flesh hanging on the wool
Where that rotten sod just started to pull

The band on my testicles has been too much
i wasn’t able to let anything touch
That part of my body restricted and sore
But now they have withered and dropped off for sure
All that has pained me for weeks now but I
Am free of that horror and I feel I want to die

A lot of my mates have been wounded as well
These shearers were brutal as brutal as hell
We all really suffered we all now have pain
And another year later it will happen again
You who buy wool and knit it please do
Remember how painful it was please will you
And those who buy wool in the shops best you know
Nothing is humane anymore as we grow
So the profit element creeps in real fast
And that humanity is a thing of the past

Within a week we are off in the truck
The farming women says we have run out of luck
We won’t get sheared any more for we will
Be taken away to the house where they kill
So that is our fate we are babies still
In real terms but we are to expect the big chill

Off to the slaughterhouse hung on the hook
Wait for the slasher to come over and look
Throats sliced and bleeding that is our luck
But I have to tell you I don’t give a fuck
Our life has been awful its torture and pain
So you lot can wear wool again and again
And look in your mirrors and think you look swell
In a jumper or dress created in hell
Or that christmas pullover with reindeers and bells
That your aunt bloody gave you
With tinsel and twirls!