Fin whales

Iceland murders Fin Whales The second largest soul To frequent the cold waters A baleen whale whose will Is to swim the vast oceans And what do Icelanders do Only about two percent Is eaten there So few Ever want to eat the flesh or the blubber Most discarded Or frozen and shipped to Japan Where of course it’s guarded It’s not as if they are hungry Shipped off to Japan And a lot is thrown back into the sea Really man for man Kristjan loftsson The skipper who believes He was born Toharpoon whales And this he achieves Murderous vicious horrible weaponry Agony and worse Explosive harpoons Frighteningly Clearly are a curse So much blood and thunder Dire and dirty they, Scream into the heavens When the Icelandic hunters stray These are gentle giants Soft hearts brilliant minds Hunted very viciously The great bids see the signs Iceland holds its ugly weaponry Hears the torrid screams so loud Why is Kristian doing this Such intent is soured Regression so abominable One man one ship one soul Murdering these beautiful beasts He is out of control