Hunters

I would rather see a hunter dead
Than a wild Lion any day
To see these ugly gargoyles
Posing with their prey
Often bloodied a great big smile
A rifle by their side
A life cut short a brave soul lost
And murder then denied

These frantic souls brought up
In farms petted when they were young
Stolen from their mother sides
Their sanity was wrung
Out like some old blanket
Sodden in a shower
And then caged up in enclosures
Under the farm mans power

Shot to death by hunters
Who probably fucking missed
The fly on the rice pudding
Somehow they resist
Its not about the shooting
Its the trophy on the wall
Its the ego in their trousers
Admitting what a fool

They are for parting company
With thirty thousand bucks
Filling the rich mans pocket
They know that that sucks
Seeing a dying animal
The king perhaps whose claws
Might have been removed already
He had gone through the wars

And now his time was needed
For lion bones far away
To be added to the Tiger Cake
To make the Chinese pay
Heavily for their experience
The great con doesn’t cease
The only soul who gets to go
Is the lion who they release

To the rainbow bridge
He travels
The rest of him is sold
The trophy hunters talisman
Worth its weight in gold