Live exports

How sick are the farmers
The butchers the trade
Consigning live souls to halal
Deaths a raid
on innocent angels
Shipping,
far away
Oft slaughtered in the street
In the most cruel display

Its religious fervour
Young lambs and we know
They are shipped in bad weather
Tossed about in the flow
Battered and frightened
And broken and lost
Many will be crushed
At a terrible cost

Some tossed overboard
Dead to the world
Battered and bruised
Just bloody well hurled
this way and that
Inside the hold
Frightened and hungry
And bloody well cold

Live exports going to their slaughter alone
Some will be killed in the street
Hear them moan
Halal, their hearts weaken
Cut down and killed
Not stunned their throats slashed
Their rich red blood spilled

It alien torture
It’s ugly murdering
Religious rights
And farmers sit back
Counting their money
Richly adorned
With thousands now fated
And none of them warned

From the green fields
Into trucks from the port to the dock
To be shipped just like cargo
Shock after shock
The meat trade stinks
It stinks to high bell
And live exports is wrong on all fronts