Winds soar through the gazing fire,
It implodes the lonesome night.
The land of which I admired
Burns drastically without fight.
And left is a land of loss,
Wildlife forced to take cover
Because humans are the boss,
Stripping cows of their mothers.
But this is fair in out land,
People are the special ones.
We're so smart, we give a hand
Life is only fun with guns.
These people make us senile
Is farming when you kill things?
Farmers do not get a file
Is killing what the God brings?
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