The Faroes

Hostility you can feel it
It’s blowing across the seA
Antagonism is everywhere
It’s really how they be
An unfriendliness and loathing
Almost a state of war
When they see a pod of whales
And drive them to the shore

The horror is so evident
This disaffected breed
Resentful and so malevolent
To imagine they succeed
Their feud Infact with nature
With the children of the sea
With pods of vital pilot whales
Who happen to be free

The boorishness the nastiness
The ungentleness to there
You feel it in your marrow
It’s just part of the air
You take into your weary lungs
From shouting at the sky
The impertinence of these retards
And they way they make us die

There is no love of anything
Their ethos is to kill
To wipe out family trees and do it
With so much blood to spill
The sea runs into Crimson froth
Blood and guts are strewn
Babies mothers fathers brothers
All now out of tune

Their slavishness apparent
Their cowardice on a high
Their total ingratiation
Which is really why
We watch we have to witness
The instrumental way
They take their knives out
Rapidly and the great whales pass away

To imagine they have affection
Or are emotional would be
Expecting this of an old rock
Poking from the sea
They are dead from the neck up
And probably the neck down
And they wouldn’t know what regret was
As they watch the great whales drown

Right up close they slaughter
Look into their eyes
Hear their lamentation
That reaches to the skies
But haven’t got an ounce of care
In their dark forbidding souls
The Faroese are vampires
Thats their chosen roles

Rejoicing at the slaughter
Jubilant to see
Babies torn to shreds
In front of mothers who now be
Tearful to the great extreme
Screaming for all their worth
This is man un kind today
The vile one of this earth

The dirge I hear across the waves
Is a doleful one for they
Can hear the lamentation
We know now who does pay
The beauty that was evident
Out in the open sea
When the pods were all exploring
As it is their will to be

The hideousness and repulsiveness
Each vile deformity
Their countenance of haggardness
Like scarecrows they all be
Heartless bile stick creatures
Wading through the waves
Brandishing their rotten knives
This will be their graves

A running tiresome battle
With now no where to go
But watch as we are cut to pieces
The great blood loss does grow
Their courseness and their vulgarity
A kind of intoxication
Blood lust satanists
That’s who they are
The violent Faroes nation

They clearly have no affection
For anything alive
Sarcastic and hudibrastic
We know we shan’t survive
It is hopelessness to be with them
They drive us to despair
They seem to want to drink our blood
And rub it in their hair

They are a bunch of monsters
On two legs maybe so
Stricken by the want and lust
That’s coming through the flow
So dire full and so ominous
Each streak of piss we see
Thrashing at our bodies
This is not how it should be

Their imprudence and indiscretion
Is not what humans are
Their impatience and desperation
Each ill considered scar
And desire to simply murder
Every soul they see
Is an affront to nature
And their precious humanity

According to Sea Shepherd
The first paid of the season
Were driven and murdered yesterday
Poor souls poor weary souls