Pest control
\nThose without soul
\nAre given reign
\nTo fight and train
\nHounds to chase
\nAt such a pace
\nA frightened fox
\nWho takes their knocks<\/p>\n
To be caught maybe
\nFor eternity
\nTo be its way out
\nHow can we be
\nIn this century
\nAnd still feel
\nWild animals
\nAre not for real<\/p>\n
They are never pests
\nThe pests to me
\nAre the dressed up huntsman who
\nArrogantly ride in anguish to
\nCrucify and do
\nTo sacrifice each precious soul
\nAnd leave her bleeding in some hole
\nSet upon by starving hounds
\nTrained to run
\nAnd make the rounds
\nTrained to break serenity
\nThe clatter of hooves
\nSounds sad to me
\nThe cry of the wild
\nThe child within
\nWho is no pest
\nThat excuse wears thin<\/p>\n
Go back to your drawing boards I say
\nTo your sherry swigging times of day
\nLeave the foxes well alone
\nYour so called culture is fully blown
\nIts passed it sell by date its no use
\nIt isn’t sport its just abuse
\nLords of the manor or squires at ease
\nWhoever you think you are now please
\nSling your hooks lets keep the ban
\nPut the statutory instrument down the pan<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Pest control Those without soul Are given reign To fight and train Hounds to chase At such a pace A frightened fox Who takes their knocks To be caught maybe For eternity To be its way out How can we … Continue reading