The bloody fishermen

Anglers they call themselves
Course fishermen
Sit by the canal
Just about count to ten
Smoke yea they smokeChuck maggots around
Catch tiddlers and leave them in a net
All the day
Stuck there we suffocate
Our mouths torn away

They pollute the waterways
Chucking ground bait
Use lead in their floats
At a stupid rate
Leave behind rubbish
All over the bank
Their habits are awful
They are really rank

Moan at the barges
Toss maggots about
Leave hooks in the water
I have no doubt
It’s not a sport
This angling crap
It’s torture and murder
And they laugh, when we flap

On the end of a hook
That does hurt the jaw
Some get away
But we die yes for sure
I wish that anglers really had
More
they could do with their spare time
Than torture and kill
We try to enjoy life
That is until you murder us

And most of you don’t even eat us