Iceland whalers

A barbed spear
Attached to a grope
Fired out of a gun
A pentathritol tetra
Nitrate explosive
That wont stun
It lodges in the body
Of the injured screaming whale
Shrapnel and hooks
Inhibit its movement
reeling it in
It leaves a trail

Of blood ofcourse
And sinew
A harpooner would have to be
Worthless aiding and abetting
This total infamy
Unfaithful to the natural world
A wicked nefarious guy
A typical heartless hunter
Who we should all ask why

He feels its right to murder
Endangered whales each day
To satisfy his master
LOFTSSON’s depraved way
Of slaughtering these beautiful souls
And dragging them ashore
And flogging them to the japanese hordes
That none of us adore

To listen to cetaceans
Break into their cry
Watch the great soul heaving
And bleeding as they die
For pet food or to be frozen
Perhaps for evermore
Because few people want fin whales
Just Victims of loftssons war