We bleed from our arses
\nWe bleed from our crutch
\nWith wounds on our body
\nThat pain us so much
\nOur wool is our body
\nThey say when its time
\nWe are lifted and slammed down
\nInto the grime<\/p>\n
It hurt so, it bruised me
\nI am not use to that
\nHe put his whole force onto me
\nHe was fat
\nAnd heavy and brutal and nasty as well
\nHis breath it was acrid
\nHe came straight from hell<\/p>\n
The sound of those clippers
\nHe pulled at my hair he tore at my skin
\nHe just didn’t care
\nRipping my wool off my body
\nUntil
\nHe caused me long lesions that weep and that spill<\/p>\n
He stinks of tobacco and is sweaty
\nWith grime
\nHe picks me up crazily
\nThis one this time
\nIs one awful toe rag
\nThis I can say
\nWho clearly is earning
\nPiece work today<\/p>\n
He tears at me ruptures my skin
\nAnd I feel
\nTerribly sore and I can reveal
\nA lot of pain as he throws me around
\nI try hard to cope without making
\nA sound<\/p>\n
Soon it is over my wool on the floor
\nYes it is bloodstained, and, theres some gore
\nBits of my flesh hanging on the wool
\nWhere that rotten sod just started to pull<\/p>\n
The band on my testicles has been too much
\ni wasn’t able to let anything touch
\nThat part of my body restricted and sore
\nBut now they have withered and dropped off for sure
\nAll that has pained me for weeks now but I
\nAm free of that horror and I feel I want to die<\/p>\n
A lot of my mates have been wounded as well
\nThese shearers were brutal as brutal as hell
\nWe all really suffered we all now have pain
\nAnd another year later it will happen again
\nYou who buy wool and knit it please do
\nRemember how painful it was please will you
\nAnd those who buy wool in the shops best you know
\nNothing is humane anymore as we grow
\nSo the profit element creeps in real fast
\nAnd that humanity is a thing of the past<\/p>\n
Within a week we are off in the truck
\nThe farming women says we have run out of luck
\nWe won’t get sheared any more for we will
\nBe taken away to the house where they kill
\nSo that is our fate we are babies still
\nIn real terms but we are to expect the big chill<\/p>\n
Off to the slaughterhouse hung on the hook
\nWait for the slasher to come over and look
\nThroats sliced and bleeding that is our luck
\nBut I have to tell you I don’t give a fuck
\nOur life has been awful its torture and pain
\nSo you lot can wear wool again and again
\nAnd look in your mirrors and think you look swell
\nIn a jumper or dress created in hell
\nOr that christmas pullover with reindeers and bells
\nThat your aunt bloody gave you
\nWith tinsel and twirls!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
We bleed from our arses We bleed from our crutch With wounds on our body That pain us so much Our wool is our body They say when its time We are lifted and slammed down Into the grime It … Continue reading