The time has just turned half past four
A fox has run from the old barn door,
hung from his mouth a hen I see
taking it home for his family.
Off at the trot I look inside,
there isn't a bird that's been left alive,
left on his own he has slaughtered the lot,
even the scraggy one marked for the pot.
Out in broad daylight he's doing his rounds,
nothing to fear if we have no more hounds,
how can we keep free range hens on the grass
we'll have to enclose them in concrete and glass.
But your days are now numbered,
I have got me a gun,
so soon it will be your corpse
that's laid out in the sun.
Updated: 11:32 Wednesday, January 07, 2004
Comments: Our rules
We want our comments to be a lively and valuable part of our community - a place where readers can debate and engage with the most important local issues. The ability to comment on our stories is a privilege, not a right, however, and that privilege may be withdrawn if it is abused or misused.
Please report any comments that break our rules.
Read the rules hereComments are closed on this article