Iceland106 and 107

The Icelandic whalers are wicked
Fiends
Hunting cetaceans they
Drag their victims back to dock
And really make them pay

The harpoons explode inside of them
Where agony is high
This is abject torture
And is just no way to die

Loftsson and his viking hordes
Should themselves be party to
The violence they exact on others
And very very few

Of us if we were asked to
would be inclined to say
Loftsson and his buddies
Should not be borne away

To the very darkest
Cavern
And fed slowly to the worms
let them begin to realise
Another set of terms

For this DEVIL incarnate
The whaler whose no more
The nastiest of reprobates
To ever walk this shore