Auction day
\nThe trek begins
\nIt really is hard going
\nThe hindrance of that awful truck
\nThe assignment of the knowing<\/p>\n
Its formidable and toilsome
\nSo demanding of our soul
\nAnd the ride into the market
\nHowever much they cajole<\/p>\n
Its dirty and its smelly
\nThey are bunglers at best
\nWe become their dead weight baggage
\nThe journey it will test<\/p>\n
Every single sinew
\nShunted forth and back
\nIt really is a challenge
\nIts like some great attack<\/p>\n
There is bickering amongst us
\nWe do not where we shall go
\nGet split up sent to here or there
\nOf course We do not know<\/p>\n
Where there is tension and disharmony
\nAnd discord and despair
\nThen of course it gets contentious
\nAnd we are so aware<\/p>\n
But really no one else is
\nToo many in the truck
\nIts very hot and sweaty
\nTo realise one’s luck<\/p>\n
Has run out and we all are off
\nTo somewhere OMG
\nDespite all our brave faces
\nNo one gives a sod<\/p>\n
Its best we remain passive
\nThough our hearts say go to war
\nBest hold the fucking white flag up
\nOr we may just get more<\/p>\n
Than we had ever hoped for
\nA shovel across our back
\nOr a boot deep in our stomach
\nAnd more assorted flack<\/p>\n
Stuck there in the hustings
\nWhere other animals shit
\nHas been left for a lifetime
\nAnd it stinks a bit<\/p>\n
A lot of noise and mayhem
\nThe auctioneer his voice
\nBlaring out the speakers
\nIf we had the choice<\/p>\n
We would mount the fence and fly
\nOff to pastures new
\nBut the stick comes down on our bottoms
\nAnd we do what we must do<\/p>\n
Out into the parade ring
\nAnd looking up I see
\nAll sorts of shapes and sizes
\nGlaring down at me<\/p>\n
They tip their hat and wink their eye
\nAnd the price is set we hear
\nI am one of those animal slaves
\nWho lives my life in fear<\/p>\n
And all because you want to eat
\nMy flesh and cook my bone
\nWear my skin act out each sin
\nI feel now so alone<\/p>\n
Some fat arse dishevelled farmer
\nBought me and therefore
\nAnother bloody truck to climb
\nAnother filthy floor<\/p>\n
No straw just grime and shit to lay on
\nThe order of my day
\nOff to hell now for a spell
\nTill they cart me away<\/p>\n
To the end game slaughterhouse
\nMy throat will be slit and I
\nCan look up to the ceiling and pretend
\nIt is the sky<\/p>\n
Think of my creation
\nas a miracle from God
\nBut realise the carnivores
\nAround don’t give a sod<\/p>\n
Go off to my maker
\nTo complain like hell why he
\nEver stopped his praying
\nJust To make a slave like me<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Auction day The trek begins It really is hard going The hindrance of that awful truck The assignment of the knowing Its formidable and toilsome So demanding of our soul And the ride into the market However much they cajole … Continue reading