Clark’s Bear’s trading post

Does anyone know what its like to be free
Born into the wilds
Bears Actually
Familial creatures
Living their life
To be captured by men
Introduced then to strife

Subjection to be overwhelmed by it all
Bondage enslavement
Being on call
Under a home under a heel
Treated like dirt
And that was for real
Captured and lead with a ring
In ones nose
Bear and canned so many blows
Restraining your movement
Coercing you too
Kept in Cage
Repressed good and true

Hampered and shackled
Locked up and kept
Impounded in irons
When you were so adept
Now you were listed
In a TRADING POST
A circus and show
That the people love most

A travelling circus
Not free anymore
Confined to a cage
For an age with no door
What food you get is thrown
At your each day
Detained your a prisoner
And there’s no way

You are now getting out
You do what you are told
That’s what it’s about
Tricks for the punters
Playing with ball
Riding a bike
Comes when they call
A performing bear
You do what you are told
Otherwise it’s no food
And in shit you are rolled

Abandoned and left
To the punters who throw
Buns cigarettes and matches
You know
We are at the roadside
All that traffic smell
Three shows a day
We have reached your hell

LINCOLN NEW HAMPSHIRE
That’s where we’re based
Closed down for corvid
So we were placed
On our own in our cages
Not much food to eat
No punters no money
And we got beat

Now the masked outlaws
They are everywhere
Coughing and spluttering
No one aware
Of our ghastly cages
Of when we were free
Now we are bears that perform
Tragically

Under lock and key
It’s a miserable plaice
They shout at us
Whip us
It is a disgrace
We are being tortured
But most folk don’t see
They just buy a ticket
And the niggardly

That’s the staff and the owners
They don’t care a jot
We live with their madness
That is all we have got
The foods often stale
They knock us around
We are being abused
In their shit we are drowned

So many are unconscious
They don’t seem to see
How much we suffer
From their brutality
What nobody sees
Is the caning we get
It’s not our fault
That Clark’s are in debt

We all feel anguish
Sorrow and grief
We miss the forests
And the belief
We miss the river
The salmon the sky
Living on frozen food
Moldy and high

These kind of shows
Should all be shut down
We should be free
To live out of town
In the woods and the forests
To live and be free
Not left on our own
Where we never should be

And now all this corvid nonsense
It’s a pain
Distancing masks
More suffering again
Sanitise chemicals
Are everywhere
Nano tech vaccines
And yet more despair