SALMON Hell man scotland the naive

250 farm sites
In Scotland alone
Vast writhing cesspools of arrogance
Lacking the wildness once known
Now it is all about profit
And not one prophet around to say NO
Such irreverence and stony
indifference
Watching the little fish grow

Their pedigree takes on a vastness
Incredibly courageous they be
An epic life history soldiers of fortune
Fighting up rivers to see
but farming them really we put them in death camps
Sparkling streams mountain air
NO Its lice ridden its putrid and smelly
Overcrowding and pesticides they all can share
A rotten soup of a vileness personifed
No where to swim just LOCKed down
They have been under Quarantine all their sad lives
We took away their gold crown

Their nobleness and their distinction
We took away all of that
In a characterless soup of nothingness
It just makes me angry just sat
Watching them struggle in water
Fighting through pesticides they
In recycled shit by the ugly tonne
Their paradise frittered away

Peevish and boiling with anger
Snarling and snapping they try
To manage our spitefulness everyday
And many cannot and they die
We are the salmons anathema
The thunder that frightens them so
We take away all of their glory
Until they have little to show
Fed on the shit dried and awful
No live food at all you can guess
A chemical splodge that is going to lodge
In their overworked guts giving stress

We are heartless and Pitiless monsters
Imprisoning them from the start
More and more density Less and less comfort
Each of them breaking their heart
To escape froM the torrent of excrement
Some do and mate with the wild
That really sods up the true pedigree
Frankenstein becomes a child

God made the salmon man fucked it up
Its all about money and margins
You see
Farming is Wrongness it just Shouldnt happen
Its immoral its awful its criminality
What SCOTLand is doing is thoughtless
And we
Are day by day ruining the ocean and sea
Theres no going back our arrogance rules
We think we are clever
But we are all fools

We default, dereliction
Its what we are good at
A lack of alacrity
Is where we are at
Incompetent idiots
Swinging the lead
Malingering miseries
Murder instead

Oh we can mismanage
It easy to do
We think we are gods
Worthless its true
Mortification plenty of that
A lack of respect thats How we react
We are unworthy beyond contempt
Our paltriness really the fact
That we Think we know better
Than the gods up above
Who made life and balance
With Spirit and love

In the wild life is rapture
Appreciation
Good graces and favour
It is true creation
In farms its the opposite
Where hostility
Protest and outcry
And just misery

Their honourable mention
Their excitement to be
Fighting up rivers
The currents we see
In the farms languid vileness
Caustic where frail sickly dying fish
Lose their splendid tail
To tackle the vibrance
The flush and the surf
To leap across rapids
For all of their worth

We have lost all our morals
Temptation was ours
just lost to shame
The cost of the game
We swindle and cheat
We puff and we lie
They are not nutrient rich
What a bitch now you cry