the gentleman
he calls himself that
rich
a fat belly, perhaps
lots of red meat
lots of claret
and sweet trifles and tarts
and braces elite
ideology thats what he’s good at
on the moorland he farts
and he shoots
burning the peat
he wants to compete
wild birds shots fired
up in the air
what has transpired
beautiful birds filled
full of lead
let the dogs bring them
thats what they said
carbon stores burning
who cares a fcuk
Red grouse a pheasant
a beautiful duck
shoot out its guts
watch it crash to the floor
burn off the grasslands
its just like a war
the burnings illegal
we know it to be
gentleman shooters
yes we can see
blitzing like crazy
lead shot in the sky
lets have a ding dong
who cares how many die
scorched and black lands
embers and ash
trees looking crippled
just so much trash
its all illegal
a ruddy shame
gentleman shooters
you are all the same