Laws and toffs

Laws were never passed for TOffs
Not the hunting types
The rooted suited booted clan
Who always get the gripes
When groups of SABS Are present
who know they break the law
Those toffs all high on fino
Oh yea they know the score

The hounds are all looked after
Cubbing carries on
They say that they are trail hunting
Another clever con
Chasing our red foxes
Closing badger setts
Digging out they do it
And, taking the bets

Going after the babies
Training the hounds that way
Thousands of Them slaughtered every year
The families pay
In lots of grief and squalor
The wild souls tbeyvlove too
A cubs a cub a baby from the family
And we do

Allow these wicked arseholes
Their malevolence and sin
Half of them are as mad hell
Their clod hooves make a din
Galloping up the country lanes
Tally tally Ho
Jodpurs to the ready
The whole lot in the flow

We all know its illegal
Chasing souls with dogs
We all know its abhorrent
Despite the muddy togs
They go on Autumn hunts
Cubbing is their thing
Some ten thousand cubs a year
Are killed thats How they bring

Their hounds on its the training
All dressed up to kill
A schooner of the finest
it gives the gals abthrill
Seeing a baby spread out
The hounds all gnashing away
Its pitiful to see it
And its happening today

They get away with murder
They all break the law
Coppers and the rest of them
For some reason ignore
The cruelty the evil the ugly
Its all there
They all scratch each others backs
The sinfulness they share