The world I live in is cold and wet
Food, I have to hunt for all I get.
But life can sometimes be a pleasure
Basking in a wintry sun at leisure
But in hunting for food I need great skill
Trying to catch fish, squid or krill.
But even here I have enemies still
To them I’m food to hunt and kill.
But worst of all is what they call man,
They say in hunting me they’ve got a ban
In their words they call it cull
To me it’s the same; I call it kill.
From it they get pleasure and call it fun,
They hunt our babies with spike and gun
For all this persecution from under the sun
I often wonder; what have we done?