The hunting act and Cameron’s sleep patterns

Cameron was confident
And as arrogant as hell
He had been around the various hunts
And clearly loved the smell
Of horse shit on the verdant grass
And fox scent on the earth

He had clearly raised the anti
And knew of huntings worth
Blood sports were the regents wish
Since the time of his birth
He liked to get out in the park
And see the wild ones run
hunting fox and deer and hare
For him had to be done

Bowing down to their majesty
By an inglenook or two
The crackling of the embers
And a stout log burning through
The clatter of the horses hooves
Ringing down the street
Speeding over fences
The sport of the elite

Cameron was confident and as arrogant as hell
As he went to bed on Tuesday night
Expecting he would sell
The programme into bigger ears
And his elite mates would be
Buying him some scratchings
And a tankard of scrumpy

But it didn’t really go to plan
The people saw to that
The SNP they helped our plea
And showed him where they were at
Foxes got a big reprieve
The Hunting Act still stood
And all the light blue rhetoric
Apparently wasn’t that good
Protestors were on good form
Despite the countryside
Alliance and the bother boys
The wild ones safely hide

This must have put the wind up
Those hunting types for sure
Thats why they voted tory
So the toffs could rule some more
Could get shot of the saboteurs and the other of the
Feisty crowd
And stop all this protesting
In downing Street, so loud

Stop it it playing havoc
With his ability to rule
On the basis of a new reality
Based on being cruel
To foxes and to deers of course
And hares and Badgers too
And then of course the disabled
More victims more to screw
This is happy government
And a rise for the MP’s
But No repeal of the hunting act
That turned out to be a tease