Mother and child after the wild one

What makes a mother want her daughter
In the saddle
Chasing after foxes
Its never fiddle faddle
It is serious business
Frightening a fox
Chasing down a vixen
With tinsel in your socks

Its boxing day nice crisp wind
Blowing through the hills
Outside of the local pub
Showing off your riding skills
The hounds a kind of yelping
You are about to ride
You want to tear a fox apart
Why have you denied

A child the thought of being
Perhaps a wild souls friend
Immersing her in bitterness
Why would you want to lend
All of that to her my dear
The fox wants love and care
Not chased all over the countryside
And made to be aware

That we have children
Riding
Horses over hills
Getting their thrills from killing
Another mother spills
Her blood torn every which way
By rabid hounds who need
The fur inside their dry old mouths
Bite hard and watch her bleed

And so we see the tinsel
And the thrust of things to come
The heart beat of the horse she’s on
The hunt fires and theres some
Ready to go to town
On chasing a wild soul anywhere
Leaping over fences
Causing such despair

For a mother to give her child this
Thus experience of death
Tally Ho the men folk go
The horses and their breath
Carving our a cloud of smoke
And coughing in the air
Galloping as they chase the fox
And knowing its not fair

The mother could have stayed at home
With her baby dressed in white
Going to a party
Maybe out of sight
Thinking of the wild life
Alive in the earth
With its extended family
That would have been some worth

Instead the hounds have got her
The vixen she is still
Except she’s being torn
apart
The improbity it will
Suffer little children
Such criminal intent
A wickedness aforethought
As another life is spent