To the tune of "Jingle Bells"
by Lindy Greene
It makes me come
To give you f*cktards hell
I live each day
To send your way
What you deserve so well
Fur farm raids
Demos in the hood
When you wail
Rant and rail
It sure does my heart good
Promoting animal rights
In the middle of the night
It sets my soul on fire
To slash some asshole's tires
I love to paint and glue
Break some windows, too
And watching foxes running free
Is poetry to me
I must confess
It really was a kick
To throw that trash
And hear it crash
Your CEO's a prick
Face my wrath
You piece of human shit
I'm on your ass
And truly lovin' it
Sung to the tune of "Silent Night"
by Lindy Greene
Out of sight
Guided only by moonlight
Pulling animals out of the labs
Painting, gluing, and doing hunt sabs
This is the only true way
To dodge the AETA
You can fuck off
Kiss my ass
With your Act
Five years in prison would certainly suck
But ten thousand's still lots of bang for the buck
With no legal protest - what's left?
Everyone's gone ALF
Citations and suits
Raided by Beautz
Feeling the heat
On Cedar Street
Police and feds breaking down my front door
I know the animals suffer much more
Busted for amplified sound
It's time to go underground
DA's on my ass
for tossing some trash
"You should do time
for organized crime!
Poor Andrew Baker has suffered enough
I sure loved seeing your booty handcuffed!
I'm going to send you away
Straight to Guantanamo Bay!"
A final court date
Will seal my fate
God only knows
What they'll propose
Meanwhile, me and my trusty bullhorn
Continue to broadcast my anger and scorn
Running away from the cops
In my long skirt and flip flops
DISCLAIMER: LAPD, SMPD, JTTF, OCU, FBI - This is written for entertainment purposes only. It is not a confession - or incitement - of illegal activity. Please don't come arrest me and send me to Guantanamo Bay!
We also wanted to share with you, our rendition of a popular Xmas verse.
The Night Before Christmas
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the lab
Not a creature was stirring, not even a crab.
All the lab coats were hung, in their lockers with care
With hopes that no one would know, what goes in there.
Then what did I see, when I next looked out back
But a crew dressed in black, with sacks on their backs.
One motioned to others with quick clever hand signals
"Start taking the beagles from their cold lonely kennels".
And faster than you can say the letters A-L-F
They moved through the labs liberating the rest.
First beagles, then kitties, then hamsters and rats
Then guinea pigs, rabbits, veal calves, birds and bats.
They opened the cages and let every single one out
As they smashed it all up, they started to shout:
"Baker, Cass, Bibi and Michaelson too
If you don't cut it out, we will do this to you!"
But before they could leave they had one more chore
That this lab couldn't function they had to be sure
They must put an end to this nasty pain whore
So they took all their timers and gas cans galore
And they set it all up, to go off with a roar
With the critters now safe and free from their pain
They barked, purred and played as bad memories waned.
One of the masked ones was then heard to say,
as they climbed over fences and melted away….
"HLS, if you torture and kill any more,
we'll be back with C-4 and you'll pay then for sure"
by Camille Hankins, WAR
A TIME FOR LOVE
by Jenny Moxham
If Christmas is a time for love
Can someone please explain,
Why Christmas is the time folk cause
The animals most pain.
If Christmas is a time for peace,
Can someone tell me why,
The brutal, bloody slaughtering
Is at an all year high.
It simply makes no sense at all
This season is a sham,
We should be showing pigs some love
Not killing them for ham.
And turkeys, inoffensive birds,
What hell folk put them through,
For nothing but a little bit of
Flesh on which to chew.
This time of year is meant for love
So loving it should be,
This means of course our Christmas fare,
Should all be cruelty-free.
It's farcical to pray for peace
Then serve a Christmas feast,
Consisting of some cruelly tortured,
Slaughtered bird or beast.
'Twas the Night Before Christmas in the Mills of Missouri
By Robin Pressnall
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the mills,
not a puppy was stirring, it was strangely quite still.
While back at the pole, Santa readied the sleigh
to pick up these mill dogs, it was such a long way!
The reindeer were dressing all quick in a hurry
They were headed for RESCUE, and straight for MISSOURI!
On Dasher on Dancer on Comet and Cupid.
Those pups go to Pet Shops! We know! We're not stupid!
As his sleigh did approach, the mill gates opened wide,
Santa called to them all, and they all jumped inside!
On Poodles, on Bichons, on Golden Retrievers!
Grab up the babies, we save those for grievers!
On Westies, on Lhasas, on cute Weenie Boogers,
On Shih Tzus and Scotties, they're all sweet as sugar!
On Schnauzers, and Maltese, on Wire Haired Fox Terriers!
We've got room for ALL, the more now, the merrier!
And the sleigh just grew bigger as they all made more room,
These pups lives were changing! No more gloom and doom!
While out on the lawns there arose such a clatter
The millers ran out to see what was the matter!
When they found their "stock" gone, how the millers did sob,
while a Voice from above boomed, "GO GET A REAL JOB!"
As it seemed it could not get much better than this,
I started to wake, did I dream all of this?
There was no red sleigh, no reindeer with wings.
I guess it was sadly, just one of those things,
That you dream and you dream, till one day 'twill be.
That glorious day, when the mills are history!
And I think as we tell them, and tell them again,
Soon it will be that we all know that when,
One buys from a pet shop, there are pups you don't see.
The Mama and Daddy, who are longing to be,
loved by a family, and scratched on the heads.
Not sleeping on wire, that they now call their beds.
One day it will be, oh how that will feel!
We won't mill our puppies like paper and steel!
And I heard it exclaimed as I woke up that night,
We won't stand for this, we'll stand up and fight!
With each breath we do have and each word we do say,
we'll tell about the mills, till that glorious day,
when the mills are all outlawed, and all over Missouri,
The occupation of milling, will be but a memory.
Robin Pressnall, Executive Director , Small Paws® Rescue
You are most welcome to cross post!