With our predisposition for forests
\nFor rooting around in the dark
\nA snout in a broth of fresh truffles
\nOur involvement to be on the mark
\nThats the freedom of feeling the rain on ones back
\nThe emotion our happiest state
\nMoulded and tempered by being outside
\nWith the fervour and ardour we rate<\/p>\n
But here in this vile crate lost to the world
\nGestation no one to condole
\nA stagnation and lethargy witheringly so
\nUnsmitten with life as a whole<\/p>\n
This isn’t happiness this isnt life
\nThis is a vegetative state
\nControlled by a farmer
\nIts about economics
\nSomething no pigs thinks is great<\/p>\n
Disgruntlement that is our keyword
\nMortification and pain
\nNobody’s happy no pig in their right mind
\nIs happy their life down the drain<\/p>\n
Regretting the heart burning spirit
\nThe irreconcilable need
\nSadder and wiser
\nFilled with aggravation
\nWith despondency that seems to bleed<\/p>\n
Who says we are happy
\nMan in his writings
\nPerhaps in his musing maybe
\nBut no man who has seen us locked into this crate
\nCan say that we are HAPPY<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
With our predisposition for forests For rooting around in the dark A snout in a broth of fresh truffles Our involvement to be on the mark Thats the freedom of feeling the rain on ones back The emotion our happiest … Continue reading