They call me Rory
\nTo give me some glory
\nI am from Africa
\nI am a LION
\nMy babies are cubs
\nMy wife a lioness
\nJust where I live
\nA petting farm no less<\/p>\n
Cages and cages
\nOf lions they are growing
\nMuch human contact
\nIts the seeds they are sowing
\nHopeful that hunters
\nWill come from afar
\nWith loads of big bucks
\nAnd their odd fat cigar<\/p>\n
Thats when us Lions begin to shake
\nIn our paws
\nThats when the brochure
\nAnd all of the tours
\nAre splashed all around to the
\nHunting brigade
\nWho will shoot us quite quickly
\nAnd when we are laid<\/p>\n
Out on the grass prop our mouth open wide
\nSo all of you can see our big teeth inside
\nIt makes these fat cowards look bold as can be
\na bunch of Pratts as you can all see
\nThese days the women are getting in on the act
\nIn camouflage gear and how we react
\nTo see women stand firing bullets at us
\nThen high five and rant and possibly cuss<\/p>\n
I am RORY I roar but not all that much
\nActually I am now well out of touch
\nSo many lions bones go off to the east
\nAnd the heads to the states
\nI like that least<\/p>\n
Sometimes we roar at night as loud as we can
\nWhat we are saying is death to each man
\nInvolved in this canned bunting lark and we hope
\nTo see them all one day hanging on a rope
\nIts totally wrong and how can it be fair
\nWe once were kings of the castle aware
\nBut now we are slaves we have lost all our pride
\nAnd the hunters the lot of them now have denied<\/p>\n
The hunting credentials have more or less gone
\nSo called CONservation just goes on and on
\nA lie they are now killing us every day
\nMaking a mint out of blowing aWay
\nAll us really my roar is a squeak
\nOur numbers diminishing every week<\/p>\n
Tomorrow in London they are marching we hear
\nShouting our names out oh yes it is clear
\nRemember I am RORY look out for me
\nI answer to REX too and I hope I see
\nYou all as we walk from cavendish square
\nRight down to Downing street Cameron’s lair
\nTo roar there and shout and try to wake
\nAll of the sleepyheads for their own sake<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
They call me Rory To give me some glory I am from Africa I am a LION My babies are cubs My wife a lioness Just where I live A petting farm no less Cages and cages Of lions they … Continue reading