This is a hunter’s story
Who hunts hunters
Every Sunday morning
He went on duty
Wandering in the countryside
Looking for fight
Wandering in the fields
Soon as the rising sun
He scoured the forest
Looking for damned armed bastards
Fearing no gun
Fighting for his friends
His fur-bearing friends
His feathered friends
He got an ethics
That was not specist
He fought for nature
And hit these scums
So many animals saved
Paid by his blood!