Two faced about the natural world

Listening to the Faroes hunter
On his boat whilst hunting he
Comes out with such hogwash
For me its just hypocrisy
Each bird he throttles how he loves them
And the natural world where he
Spends his time a hunting
With such duplicity

These birds are little babies
As yet they cannot fly
They sit upon the water
And because of that they die
Not from Natural predation
But for Faroe hunters who
Scoop them up in nets
And screw their heads off
Which they do

When each baby gets this treatment
Imagine how distressed
Torment and angst ridden
Surely such a test
Really of this magnitude
On such a tiny soul
Joyous of creation
Condemned to such a role

One after another
This is what they do
Its actually revolting
To hear a hunter’s view
How much he loves these wild birds
And feels that they should pay
For he us going to eat them
But not every day
Such euphemistic claptrap
Which, makes my poor heart bleed
It was eaten back in history
But now its purely greed

These birds are long lived
But won’t breed until the age of 8
So every single bird thats killed
Each miracle to create
Is purely wasted in the general scheme of things
Abroad
Economical with the truth
To gain their sick reward

The reason for this torturous death
Is to prevent the bird
From vomiting up its stinking ball
For it would have occurred
A malodorous foul oily discharge
Meant to ward of ill
But by tearing off the head and stomach
The ocean gets the swill

The season is a short one
But the numbers killed are high
In that two week period
100,000 die
Bird killing boats
Are on the lookout for the pilot whales
And radio back if a pod is sighted
With all the details

Our mother has her way
Though
when she sees just how unfair
The Fulmars carry a disease
And ten percent will share
Chlammydophilia Psittaci
Flu like symptons they
Can work into pneumonia
Which hopefully does play

Out inside the hunters
And affects them for I say
The need is there
to cause them despair
For whats happening today
The torture and the murdering
Put down to culture here
Killing seabirds as they do
Is becoming clear

They are killing off so many
Puffins now are scarce
Arctic Terns and Kittiwakes
And guillimots are worse
Their eggs they have to ration
Or they would eat them all
Not because they are starving
Tradition comes to call

Thousands die in gill nets
By-catch so to say
Processed food is not for them
When its hand caught its the way
Drinking snapps with fulmar
Is culture thats for real
A natural state of melancholy
Is something they allege
So when the sun warms up the earth
It just gives them that edge.

All that true affection
for Nature i have to say
It really does my head in
That all these wild souls pay
A price their lives are important too
Creation made them so
But the Faroes islanders interpretation
Is a travesty we know.