The diabolical hunters of Foxes

Thousands of healthy fox hounds
Are often killed we hear
When they are not as productive
Thats if it does appear
If they just show a weakness
Then they can be clubbed to death
Sometimes with loads more life in them
Not allowed to share our breath

Week old baby puppies
They can get the boot
If as runts they don’t make the grade
Clearly they don’t suit
And hounds often get tortured
For chasing the wrong scent
The responsibility is laid on them
Their little lives soon spent
Heads bashed on the kennel floor
Brains flow everywhere
Extermination bastards
So very unaware

If hounds make sounds
When they are supposed not to
A big kick up the arse
Will come their way
Another if they chase another animal
Thats the time to just get out the way

Whipped and flogged and kicked
And disposed of quickly
Be a savage go and ravage
Or you will meet your end
From 3 to about 10,000 may now perish
A hound who is useless is nobody’s friend

We have to stand our ground
And tell the MP’s
The Hunting act must stand
Now for all time
Let the tory toffs go back to
Cheese and fucking biscuits
Not on their thoroughbreds
Get back and climb
To ride off in the sunset
With the terrier men
Guaranteeing foxes a hard time
The countryside alliance
More bovver boys
Who have to realise
That this here rhyme

Represents the nation
Of fox lovers
Wild animals are not here
To be killed
We value all that creation ever gave us
If there is any blood that should be spilled
Then let it be the hunters
Thats the glory
Thats our story and one we shall stick to
Hunters are an anathema the hunting act is here
Do not repeal it ever
Lets put an end to the fear