The thief

I’m hiding in a bush

Ready for an ambush

Going out are some rabbits

Looking for some bits

I have to shoot on the spot

I have to fill our pot

For my four children

Looking for a hen

I used to go for an egg

Until they got my leg

Farmers call us prats

We call them pirates

For their violence has no end

I now fear for my hand

We sleep in a few shacks

They eat like a bunch of sharks

The days of their judgement

Is going to be imminent

Midnight will awake the meadows

Moon light will show the shadows

Silentely in their inn

Sneakily enter their room

Swiftly seal their doom

La Sphère