2004

Competition No 3852

We want the point of view of the fox, set to a well-known tune.

 

D’ye ken John Peel,

With his coat so red?

He’s the huntmaster,

And he wants me dead.

But if I could compete

On a level playing-field,

Then I’d bite off his bollocks in the morning.

 

He prates and he spouts

All about democracy;

But it ain’t democratic,

As far as I can see,

When there’s two hundred dogs

But there’s only one of me

And they tear off my bollocks in the morning.

 

He’s off on the demo

To assert the people’s will,

But while he’s away

All his chickens I shall kill;

For that’s my “Way of Life”

And it gives me a thrill

Just to chew off their bollocks in the morning.

 

They whinge and they grumble

And Tony Blair they blame,

But if I don’t turn up

Well – ain’t that a shame?

For like Andy Flintoff

I’ve withdrawn from the game,

I’ll hang on to my bollocks in the morning.