Hunter and psychopath

To be the man who gets up in the morning
Showers and thinks I will bag myself a bull
Or perhaps a lion or an elephant
Yes that’s what I will do
Drive out to the wilderness and kill
And let the blue
Sky and vital vistas act as a lure for me
Go out with my fancy bows and hide behind a tree

Ambush a real live created soul who is just dying to be
Shot and killed and torn apart
Who can then look back and see
As its spirit leaves it’s body
It just looks back and will know
It’s head will soon be on my wall
And it’s killers fame can grow

On TV and social media
Where the dead eyes go to see
Stuffed heads on great trophy walls
Where they ought to be

To imagine a world of innocence
Where animals take flight
Living in creation everyday and night
Living with their families
Experiencing love and care
How futile is that offering
When their bodies they can share

With the Psychopathic arses ones with pockets
Overflowing
Ill gotten gains from causing pains
To those who were all knowing

But up against the arrow the bullet
And the man
They laid their lives upon the earth
In the hope there would be a ban

On what was known as hunting
Canned hunting and the rest
Trophies hanging on dusty walls
Really it would test
The heartache of so many
And gradually they would be
Strong enough to stand up
For the victims who they see

But actually the hunters
The rich men with their guns
Their madness and their social class
They passed down to their sons
And children now are killing
Life now is no more
Destruction is the wish of man
Our deaths they all ignore

They make many excuses
We have no heart nor soul
We have no need for feeling
And love is not our role
We are here for them to eat
To chase to torture so
Or just to act as targets
So as hunters they can grow

No matter really where we hide
We are victims now
Whether wild or domesticated
Like the poor young cow
The Auroch Bulls the Friesland cows
No matter who we be
Exploitation rape and murder
Is what we have to see

And the slaughter house our journeys
End
That’s our lot on earth
Everyone’s somebody’s victim
From our time of birth
To think creation never thought
It through and saw our worth

Was menial and thoughtless
All that we are for
Is fodder on a human plain
A victim of their war
Purely there for torture
To be hunted to be killed
To be beaten to be eaten
And for all our blood to be spilled

So our numbers yes they are falling
Eden’s not to be
On planet earth for our only worth
Is our Ivory
They chop us down like forest trees
Or work us till we die
Or make us jump through rings in circus
They fail to hear us cry
We were Giants on the earth
Many years ago
But up against the psychopaths
Phajan maybe few know
It’s torture and it’s agony
So as to break us Through
And get us painting pictures
Or giving rides to you

In zoo’s on chains we dangle
In monasteries our screams
Are not heard no not any more
Elephants had dreams
Of living with their families
Of loving wind and sky
But now we have no reason
To live and that is why

Our numbers are now falling