Corey Knowlton

The argument of shooting old male animals
The destruction of creation so that some
The rich unhinged brigade the psychopaths by trade
The brain dead sicko’s clearly very numb
Hearts have basically hardened and are ready
To give up fucking sooner than they think
Their souls are dried and withered from their evil
And shooting sad old animals adds a link

To those who say they hunt for conservation
Any excuse to draw fire from themselves
350,000 dollars paid for just two shots
He wanted to experience a Black Rhino
He’s got pots
Of dosh to wave around the place
A rich assassin he
Heads off to North Namibia
And 3 days later, see

His prize its there its breathing
It reached a good old age
It loves to be alive today
As far as we can gauge
There are not a lot of Rhino’s
And the Chinese poachers do
Flog the horn all over
So living for them is true

Its absurd to expect the population
To understand just how
A man can travel around the world
In this day and age and now
Take out his bloody rifle
And aim it at a soul
Who never did him any harm
And seemingly control

Assassinate an innocent
An animal created
Not to just be done away with
And actually not ill fated
Who the hell is he to say
The Rhino has to die
He is the bloody criminal
Who has always had his eye

Who wanted to be intimately
Involved they are his words
Using words like experience
Away with the birds
Thats the words I am using
A psychopath for sure
Who waves his money around the place
And his sickness all ignore

Whether one is old or senile
Or no service to the cow
Creation gave this animal
A life and this is how
We choose to rub an old soul out
Make a lot and see
A psycho fire his rifle
And orgasm seems to me

Now he is getting death threats
And he doesn’t see now why
So many people hate his guts
And now the FBI
Are after people who got incensed
Because They thought its right
To threaten him theres no need for that
The karmic beast will bite

They are out there waiting in the brush
Shadows in the night
One day when he is killing
Somewhere out of sight
He will find his match
His karmic debt will be reversed
And that will be the end of him
But it will not be a first

Hunters are gaining karma
With Each soul that they despatch
And when the figure passes
That well then they meet their match
We must all sigh for the Rhino
We must all cry for its soul
It never hurt the hunter
It was in control

How insanity is looked on
When the bank roll is real high
And if you say I am a hunter
Well of course it is no lie
In these poorer African countries
Where the iconic souls do live
Too many greedy arrogant sods
Are ready to give

A blind eye or a few quick nods
Look at the ivory trade
Look at the trade in rhino horns
On Africa its laid
The hunting men and women
Cajole and crash the cash
And of course the miracle of life
Is over in a flash