There was a time not long ago
\nWhen a King reigned and was seen
\nBut now it’s an absurdity
\nAnd some might say obscene
\nTo imagine my iconic stature
\nTaken now to be
\nPurely a pain in someone’s arse
\nA nuisance actually<\/p>\n
Born free and those roaring days
\nWhen big cats were respected
\nNow we are poisoned and can hunted
\nWe really are dejected
\nAbout All of this now going down
\nIt really isn’t fair
\nThe vagaries of hunting
\nAnd those clowns so unaware<\/p>\n
developing a strategy
\nFor profit at all cost
\nThe farmers in South Africa
\nTheir morality they tossed
\nOut into the swamp they did
\nAnd set up camps where we
\nWere kept in tight enclosures
\nAnything but free<\/p>\n
The absurdity of all of this
\nThe governments in tow
\nTheir greasy fingers in the pot
\nCorruption it does grow
\nCanned hunting farms are everywhere
\nThey pet our babies young
\nAnd cage us all in chicken wire
\nIt’s all about the bung<\/p>\n
The government inspectors
\nHold their hand out they
\nGet the bung whenever
\nAnd so of course they say
\nCarry on just carry on
\nThis hunting lark is great
\nAnd we can use the lion meat
\nWhich sells at quite a rate<\/p>\n
The bones is what we are after
\nDried out in the sun
\nSend them off to Vietnam
\nAnd when the day is done
\nOut there they call them tiger bones
\nAnd nobody can tell
\nThe difference adding monkey
\nAnd some turtle shell<\/p>\n
Making it into a cake
\nTiger cake it’s called
\nAnd flogging it to Chinese
\nAll of them well schooled
\nImagining this tiger cake
\nFrom Africa is best
\nIt’s made of our bones Lion bones
\nBut no one has a test<\/p>\n
To see that they believe it
\nWhat’s written on the bag
\nAnd they pay a fortune
\nWith nobody to flag
\nUp the true deception
\nMore of us get killed
\nCanned hunting for the rich set
\nAnd more of our blood spilled<\/p>\n
Where is their intelligence
\nTheir prudence their forethought
\nSurely they must realise
\nExactly what they have bought
\nIn fact it’s their backwardness
\nThey are an un enlightened lot
\nObscurantists in a moment
\nNo sensible they are not<\/p>\n
We are now worth more dead it seems
\nWhich is insanity
\nThe farmers their psychosis
\nIt’s all about money
\nFor them it is a sickness
\nTheir gullibility
\nProfound really in many ways
\nDepressives actually<\/p>\n
For us though there is apathy
\nHopelessness for we
\nAre lost souls in so many ways
\nEye openers we be
\nThoroughly disconcerted
\nAbout how our lives pan out
\nAnd how they look into our eyes
\nBut it’s our bones what that’s about<\/p>\n
They lack the imagination
\nThey were born with
\nThey can’t see
\nThe jungle and it’s beauty
\nAnd it’s lasting rhapsody
\nThey don’t possess a vision
\nThey have no romance anymore
\nNo meaning really to their lives
\nNothing in their core<\/p>\n
For them it’s just irrelevance
\nTwaddle in reverse
\nA meaningless existence
\nUnder some dark curse
\nThey are always hiding something
\nSkulking here and there
\nThey seem to find the shadows
\nUnderhand and so unfair
\nAlways men of mystery
\nIn everything they do
\nHarbingers of horror
\nNever good nor true<\/p>\n
I don’t know what my future holds
\nPossibly I will
\nBe drugged up to the eyeballs
\nUntil my blood they spill
\nSome fat arsed virgin hunter
\nWith bottle glasses comes
\nNever picked a rifle up before
\nOne of those bums
\nThat accumulates the money
\nFrom others he employs
\nAnd buys a life which could be mine
\nAnd killing he enjoys<\/p>\n
But actually that is questionable
\nFor although I am drugged and slow
\nHe aims his gun but misses
\nAnd clearly he is slow
\nThe professional will shoot me
\nAnd pat him on the back
\nTell him what a great shot
\nHis name is on my plaque<\/p>\n
He bags his lion and the locals
\nMay get to eat my meat
\nThe bones will all be stripped
\nAnd dried
\nAnd wrapped up in a sheet
\nAnd shipped off to the far east
\nThat’s when I come in to my own
\nGround up with the turtle
\nAnd some monkey bone<\/p>\n
The rainbow bridge
\nWill beckon
\nAnd I will so attend
\nAll my strength and vigour
\nWill come back in the end
\nPerhaps reclaim my elegance
\nAnd my willingness to be
\nForgiving of these farmers
\nWho fcuk ing murdered me<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
There was a time not long ago When a King reigned and was seen But now it’s an absurdity And some might say obscene To imagine my iconic stature Taken now to be Purely a pain in someone’s arse A … Continue reading