Hunt the fox no more they say Our ancient rights consigned to dust They say it's harsh and cruel But is it what they really mean

Talk to the cow and her ritual knife Talk to the fowl and her cage for life What sense is this I say Tradition is the word they cry

The viscous orange wolf who seeks and kills the young and foal We must remember the words we use This cunning creature, wily beast, sly fox

Maybe prancing Reynard does And natures selection will prove us right. Darwin says the old and sick must die So this old law will still apply

With no fear the fox is king What now to check his might The danger now will soon be felt The untrained gun, the abandoned snare The poisoned land.

The men in suits that save this beast Care not about his bushy tail But more about the past This rigid stance rings more of hate The class war is here to stay.

Ben Mellor 4/10/04