The Grass Lay Red
His coat was pink and his coat was red
And his tallyho was a cry for death
And he begged and begged for the huntsman's rule
And the sport he played was the sport of fools.
shattered vixen in a dog-dug lair
bloodied hands that don't bloody care
He mounted up to the bugle sound
And the game was won by his fevered hounds
And the grass lay red and her coat was rust
And the vixen dropped for the victor's lust.
shattered vixen in a dog-dug lair
bloodied hands that don 't bloody care
Yet the urban fox lurked beyond his door
And took his tax for the urban poor
And it snapped and snarled at his leathered feet
And the huntsman scented his own defeat.
Page(s) 27
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