Live animal auction

Auction day
The trek begins
It really is hard going
The hindrance of that awful truck
The assignment of the knowing

Its formidable and toilsome
So demanding of our soul
And the ride into the market
However much they cajole

Its dirty and its smelly
They are bunglers at best
We become their dead weight baggage
The journey it will test

Every single sinew
Shunted forth and back
It really is a challenge
Its like some great attack

There is bickering amongst us
We do not where we shall go
Get split up sent to here or there
Of course We do not know

Where there is tension and disharmony
And discord and despair
Then of course it gets contentious
And we are so aware

But really no one else is
Too many in the truck
Its very hot and sweaty
To realise one’s luck

Has run out and we all are off
To somewhere OMG
Despite all our brave faces
No one gives a sod

Its best we remain passive
Though our hearts say go to war
Best hold the fucking white flag up
Or we may just get more

Than we had ever hoped for
A shovel across our back
Or a boot deep in our stomach
And more assorted flack

Stuck there in the hustings
Where other animals shit
Has been left for a lifetime
And it stinks a bit

A lot of noise and mayhem
The auctioneer his voice
Blaring out the speakers
If we had the choice

We would mount the fence and fly
Off to pastures new
But the stick comes down on our bottoms
And we do what we must do

Out into the parade ring
And looking up I see
All sorts of shapes and sizes
Glaring down at me

They tip their hat and wink their eye
And the price is set we hear
I am one of those animal slaves
Who lives my life in fear

And all because you want to eat
My flesh and cook my bone
Wear my skin act out each sin
I feel now so alone

Some fat arse dishevelled farmer
Bought me and therefore
Another bloody truck to climb
Another filthy floor

No straw just grime and shit to lay on
The order of my day
Off to hell now for a spell
Till they cart me away

To the end game slaughterhouse
My throat will be slit and I
Can look up to the ceiling and pretend
It is the sky

Think of my creation
as a miracle from God
But realise the carnivores
Around don’t give a sod

Go off to my maker
To complain like hell why he
Ever stopped his praying
Just To make a slave like me