a lot of sad vixens

A lot of sad vixens
Holed up in the earth
With their cubs
It just rubs
And shows me their worth
And What Hunters believe
They can chase any soul
For they have the upper hand
Yes they control
On anyones land
Its that smell of blood
The snarl of the hounds
And what is a flood
Of canine attention
On land that belongs
To a Lord of the Land
Who understands wrongs

Are mean’t to be righted
For huntsmen they think
A schooner of sherry
At least one they drink
Giving Dutch Courage
And over the wall
They leap makes me weep
The poor horse
Did it all!

H & M’s owner
A Gentleman who
Owns 19000 acres
Its true
He doesn’t want murdering scumbags around
Chasing the foxes
Under the ground
Full marks to this man
Two fingers to those
Toffs with their tight pants
And rich purple nose
A whip for the horse
And expletives galore
When the saboteurs show up
Of course its a war

Right against wrong
The larcenists who
Leap over a fence
And into the blue
Chasing down wild life
Watching it go
The hounds get a taste
And then we all know
They lie out their backsides
Toffs do it well
Up on the thoroughbred
Where stuff does gel
As for the sabs if coppers show
They get a talking to
As we all know

So its good when the Lord of the manor
Says He
Owns all this land
And he don’t want to see
Toffs riding roughshod
Not any more
Arrogant sods
Breaking the law