Shooters

To possess that innate
perverse amorality
To wake up knowing
that you have that quality
To kill and make a business
of shooting
Our wild creatures
The fox the little warrior
whose free
To wander through the hedgerows
into gardens
And to be an absolute pain
for country folk
Who can now employ assassins
who will charge
To come and kill them
This is a reality no joke

The SUN tells the story
and it captivates the soul
These gunmen sit in bedrooms
dark and wait
Rifle cocked with dog food
smeared all around the place
A headshot and it’s over
it’s sealed fate

The medulla obligata penetrated
To the rainbow bridge
it’s four legs in the air
It’s family left behind
no doubt a grieving
But the Gardener
is happy and aware

There’s money to be had
it is big business
Shooters in our towns
and suburbs too
A call out cost about 450 quid
plus a bounty on each fox
Yes it is true

Having wild life
visiting our gardens
Is selfless
how the hell can we go on
It’s right to encourage wildlife
when we live in the countryside
These Bug ridden creations
are best gone

Compassion and a sharing
that’s for storybooks
Our gardens and our flowers
are all we need
We don’t want the wild ruffians
digging in our cabbage patch
Sharing the wild spaces no indeed

all of god’s wild creatures
there are many
None of them are welcome
that’s for sure
I say to remember
the giant who built his walls so high
That nothing came to visit him no more

And then the sun stopped shining
Rain it didn’t fall
No birds wanted to sing their songs
Don’t break the golden rule

We are all part of the same world
Show compassion and love to all

Your rewards will be in heaven