In the pocket of life sits a joey
\nFlushed from its mother, so sweet
\nA corn of a boy
\nA pencil of joy
\nSoft on the ground
\nBy her feet<\/p>\n
Her kangaroo baby is crying
\nSwept into life on a dream
\nTo grow and experience the outback
\nWith a skin of pure sunlight and cream<\/p>\n
To leap into futures and suffer
\nThe plight of the sacred and blessed
\nTo be slaughtered and skinned
\nAnd be left on some heap
\nIn the cool of the night
\nWith the rest<\/p>\n
Lifeless, so worked into leather
\nThe skill of the ignorant ply
\nNew leather real leather footballs
\nFor the great karmic pitch in the sky<\/p>\n
Kangaroo leather
\ni must now surmise
\nIs the skin of the dead who fear such disguise
\nI cry by the light of a silvery moon
\ndear joey this was your honest high noon<\/p>\n
The sick fellow fired you fell to the ground
\nUnbelievably now your heart will not pound
\nThe ants will possess
\nThe maggots redress
\nWill mankind confess
\nHis work is a mess<\/p>\n
Will they heed the call
\nFurnished into some ball
\nTo be kicked at
\nFor those bastards who kill
\nIn the pocket of life
\nSits a Joey as rare
\nAs the vast green
\nRainforest
\nthat was also
\nOnce there<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
In the pocket of life sits a joey Flushed from its mother, so sweet A corn of a boy A pencil of joy Soft on the ground By her feet Her kangaroo baby is crying Swept into life on a … Continue reading