Deer Hunters

Devon and Somerset
Where the red deer
Live their wild lives
Many in fear
Of the huntsmen
The dogs
The shooters who be
Ready to chase
And kill tragically
Wild souls at home
Know the lie of the land
Every copse every hill
They understand
Up against hunters
Clad in their gear
Carrying rifles
Spreading the fear

Businessmen all sorts
Sick in the head
Out at the weekends
After the Red
Deers,the bold warriors
Trying to be
Wild in the countryside
Safe and Scott free

Families of animals
Living their life
Watching out for the cars
And the perilous strife
Sicko’s who spent time
Trying to catch
And murder the Deer
That run on their patch

They chase them
They frighten them
Dogs barking, they
Feel their hearts ratcheting up
And they pay
With stress and with rigour
Hunters sick sods
After the venison
Ugly bods

Thanks to the saboteurs
Trying to be
All things to animals
A constancy
Of offering protection
And fighting those who
Are out to kill them
For that’s what they do

This Stag ran ragged
Stressed out of its mind
Thinking of family
Feeling the grind
Of heartbeat and undergrowth
On its sore feet
As it ran for its life
Trying hard to compete

These hunters are rampant
It’s money they see
Selling the flesh
To the meat eating We
Know in the countryside these buggers are
Torturing animals yes near and far

All sorts of people
Hunt as we know
They kill birds they kill fish
And Deer, we all know
They kill Foxes and Hares
They are killers in fact
Murdering scum bags
Who seem to react

By turning blind eyes
By flogging off meat
With local purveyors
Who sell in the street
Wild game costs money
And profit is made
From all kinds of flesh eating
Country brigade.