Terrier men

Terrier men it’s their title
Part of the Hunt
To be sure
Insensitive creatures
That’s if you ask me
Bred on a diet of gore
The fox known as wily
A negative pose
When really he is subtle and
Has a good nose
An intelligent beast
With a rampant desire
To be out in the wilds
And be close to the fire

Chased by the hounds
Slobberingly they
Work to the whistle
And the cane and they pay
Highly for obstinacy and a deaf ear
With a bloody good kicking
And dollops of fear

Terrier men with a terrier they
Will dig out a fox in their murderous way
Tail Enders doing the dirty perhaps
When the huntsman go bonkers
That when these chaps
Are covering their backs
All part of the show
No friends of mine
For me being low

In the order of gentleman
Racing around
Serving the huntsman
Wherever thy are found
Foxes are sacred
Hunters are scum
The law is an arse
And Their programme leaves me numb