Some one thinks they are Robin Hood

There is someone in Brabham
That’s Western who,
imagines
That they have the right
To get out their bow
and their arrows
And shoot
Kangaroo’s shoot them on sight
Mothers with babies
imagine that gall
A five month old baby
Goes to the wall
and doesn’t tuppence
Not a single thought
Thats amorality
Which cannot be bought

It happened before it will happen
Again
Someone in Brabham
Cares nothing of pain
Any chance they can
To draw back their bow
And aim at a creature
Just for the show

Of watching it suffer
Of hearing it cry
Or seeing it’s eyes
Of watching it die
This is no human
It’s an Abomination
And Stephen Dawson
Must think for the Nation

It’s a self seeking fool
With an axe to grind
Opportunistic
As for their mind
Mean and acquisitive
Ready to kill
A covetous creep
Who is
Getting a thrill

That famous Jack Brabham
Who gave his sweet name
To the town where it’s happening
The very same
Markers this brute
This monster must be
Found and locked up
And then give me the key

Far fAr away
From where I live today
But with social media
Clearly I hear
He thinks he’s Robin Hood
Drawing his bow
He has no heart
But he has to know
That people all over
Are looking to see
Him Locke up forever
That’s how it has to be