LOFTSSON’s flensing staff

What makes young men want to
Butcher
Beautiful fin whales
I ask
The odour must
Become ingrained
It really is a violent task

In the wild wet windy weather
Using knives as sharp as hell
Pairing back the folds of blubber
Which Must have an awful smell

Are they courting?
Are they married
The odour must be powerful stuff
Its everyday and very heavy
So much work is there enough

Wages really to encourage
Youth today to work like this
Bacterium and toxic substance
Most around I think would miss

The chance of cutting up so much
Flesh and blubber its seems to me
Every single day it happens
It must exhaust them actually

Then ofcourse the need to do it
Endangered whales why kill them dead
Drag them back and make light of them
Being brainwashed some have said

I suppose its man’s work
You could say that
But they must be heartless knaves
The constancy of gore and blubber
Healthy whales that no one saves

All that singing in the ocean
Their great size it seems to me
Surely they would think its worthwhile
To preserve them let them be