Killing

The malignancy and malice
In the heart of shooters who
Look upon Bush Angels
Like nobody should do
The spitefulness and gall
Thats shown in their night time jaunt
And the total inconsiderateness
That many of them flaunt

They work in filth and flies and dirt
With a savagery abroad
Sanitation not on the table
They seemingly afford
Little respect for anything
And the blessed kangaroo
Or anyone that may consume
The flesh which some will do

They adopt an inhuman attitude
A fiendish kind of spite
Tied up with resentment
Killers in the night
They really show no mercy
Just vulgarity
Threatening the world at large
With such menace actually

To adopt this lack of pity
Such inflexibility
Really its remorseless
To imagine and to see
How vengeful they are honestly
To the beautiful Kangaroo
Who has a wealth of compassion
But is callously shot through

Its peculiarly rotten
The injustice that prevails
The futility of wasting
The paltriness that pales
Into their insignificance
Its as if they do despise
The love and care that animals show
That they fail to realise