| To the hunter A shot rips the air, Full of violence and fear, It's slices through a brain, As the bullet scores again. Does it make you feel good, When you notice in the wood, Frightened little eyes, Full of hurt and surprise, When the gun in your hand, Creates hate throughout the land, When the evil that you're starting, Causes a tragic parting, And why, when compassion is the essence of life, Would you want to cause such strife? |