Nature's Theives.

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for the bastards who belittle and then barbecue bambi
put your six-shooter in your suburban-swollen sucker
and stop sending your slaves to become
sons and daughters of the gun

something in your suburbia smells of sickest flesh stench
hunters' heavy game hangs as your warning to the French
blackened bloody beef is seen as your shotgun-barrel's prize
you are nature's theif as seen in your restive rifle eyes
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