This is my feeling

SPorts and death and conservation
Culture tradition it’s no usalvation
And of course those no good arses
I call them psychopaths who all need glasses
To every sink hole everywhere..
Let them share in our despair
They shoot to kill they maim they hurt
And leave us face down in the dirt

Our natural lives are short compared
To them but we are seldom spared
High powered rifles what chance we
Lost souls we are far from free
Camouflage is what they wear
In hides they sit they are always there
Ready to just blow us away
Thats the order of the day

It’s for their amusement after all
Their satisfaction that’s why they trawl
The countryside and the wilderness
In their city haunts they build up such stress
But the open road and the four by four
And the shot gun sticking out the door
Champagne on ice and some roasted game
It’s wonderful that’s what they claim

And by killing us the locals can
Be fed and watered Their master plan
The Tory hordes in their mansions say
They can share the spoils for that’s their way
So our wretched lives are the spoils of war
That’s what we were created for
So the soft bummed idiots irksome hours
Just watching us die gave them new powers

They were the hunters and further afield
To the African bush what that does yield
Is real big game the canned variety
A hunting lodge and notoriety
No need to trek it’s all laid on
Out of the cage and bang you are gone
At least we know what it’s about
We are part of the senseless rout

The lame excuse is the local poor
Can get free meat and so ignore
The cowards who supposedly give away
Our flesh and because of course we pay
With our precious lives No one wants to die
Even a cage just to sit or lie
In the rubble and dust is better by far
Than a gun up your arse from a stationary car

Our epitaph if there is one here
Is enjoy your second pint of beer
Pull the trigger and watch us flag
High fives all round we are in your bag
Up on some wall in Timbuctoo
Looking down on cunts like you

From a weary Lion