Duck farming

We humans are sick
Soulless I say
Farming ducks
Webbed feet birds
To consume
And we pay

Little attention
To where most Ducks live
They of course live in water
And so we give

Man anything but kind
Or observant or able
All he thinks of is how
They are abused for our table
Housed out of water
In captivity
And abused every second
Peculiarly

The meat trade
Are ignorant
Arrogant sods
No study of habitat
Better than the gods
Who created these birds
Who made them this way
Webbed feet to swim with
Which we change, and they pay

A different diet
A different life
Man isn’t kind
Man present his strife
To all of the animals
He’s chosen to
Abuse and consume
Sadly it’s true

Wild ducks they fly
They swim and they be
Eating what God gave them
But then what we
Eat let’s create what we think is the best
The cheapest the easiest
Way to invest

In farming these creatures
We just break their hearts
No families to speak of
We throw them in carts
We talk economics we quietly abuse
Honest to god
We simply refuse

To be honest to consumers
Imagining they
Get what they pay for
But they don’t
And we play
Out the fresh life style
In sheds in the dry
Fed on what makes more profit
Under the sky

Ducks with their feathers
Flesh for stir fry
Shoved in the ovens
No word of a lie
Cruelty stinks
These innocent birds
Are imprisoned in hell
Yes yes mark my words

The meat trade is ready
To market them they
Are all being kept
From the water, away
From river or stream
Just a shed yea that’s all
Quack quack I reckon
They still use that call