84 angels

Killing pods of Pilot Whales
By driving them to shore
And leaping in to cut them up
Is A tragedy of war
Never of their making
Peace loving gentle souls
Set upon by whom I see
As inbred Viking trolls

Its hateful to create this mayhem
For the juveniles
For the females, for them all
For me it really riles
How they all must meet their deaths
In such a brutal awful way
Soaking in each others blood
For me its hard to say

This is culture this tradition
This is what we do
This is historicity
Providing us all through
We are the Faroese warriors
Subsisting on the same
Varieties of modern foods
Whatever we now claim

The ocean was their paradise
And we made it into HELL
So we could fill our guts with all their agony
As well
To tell the truth this world we live in
Is as ugly as can be
And To Pilot Whales
I apologize
For what we do to thee.

I am what I am and can never see such slaughter
To be justified not in this day and age anyway