The idiots are at it

The idiots are at it
If only they could fly
And were our size we could dive bomb them
I know I bloody try
They must think we are stupid
Shooting from those hides
Laying decoys about the place
And auto risers rides
“Pigeons extremes” and “black gold”
That is what they do

One fat gut has Perazzi
That’s an Italian gun
The factory is in Brescia
Corona is there’s so no fun
So production will be ceasing
Which is good I have to say
Being a crow in Sussex
The farmers make us pay

The Wheat and beans we are after
On fields the drills we go
of course they bloody shoot us
It’s fun for them we know
But we are already up against
The shotguns everywhere
The govt are after us
And shooters are aware

A wild bird in The British isles
Has its work cut out to be
Flying in the bloody sky
And not get shot instantly
These shooters trigger happy
Cartridges and all
We have to be much cleverer
Perhaps pretend to fall
Pretend we have been shot
And just fall down to the ground
And when they are not looking
Get up and fly, I’ve found
Maybe thats an answer maybe we can win
If they waste their cartridges
It won’t be worth the spin

Corvidae around the place
lets feed in the trees
Keep away from their bloody fields
The shooters if you please
have got sophistication
And heaps of pellets too
Firing shot about the place
Which is what they like to do.