Brock Star
I could kill a badger with my hands ungloved and bare
I could break the back of any fox or stoat or hare
I could swallow minnows with no smidgen of a doubt
I could kiss a wild boar on its hairy little snout
Far too many immigrants are flocking to our shores
None of them could ever kill a badger in the cause
I could kill a badger with my fingers and my thumbs
I could suck a snake to death by flexing all my gums
I could bust a buzzard’s gizzard with a canny wink
I could dance with ferrets, do mazurkas with a mink
Islamists attack our shops, our daughters and our pets
None of them could ever strangle badgers in their setts
I could take a badger out, my skin upon its fur
I could smash a Siamese cat that had a vicious purr
I could slaughter wildebeests, my pen-knife sharp and proper
I could murder herds of tigers, never come a cropper
Foreigners are killing Britain with their nasty habits
They couldn’t waste a badger or some homicidal rabbits
That’s it for the badger, for the dirty little brock
And now I’ll tie the Union Jack upon my tiny cock
Click here for a Telegraph article