(the Way We Treat) The Animals

The way we treat the animals

Will govern how we're judged

And if you slay the animals

Your soul, it will be dust

But no, the bloodless hunter

Makes light of precious words

He clears the land of wondrous beast

He decimates the birds

He pays no heed to august plume

He cares not for its grace

He cocks and shoots with disregard

He lays the swan to waste

The way we treat the animals

Will govern how we're judged

And if you slay the animals

Your soul, it will be dust

I've tried to comprehend the type

That must annihilate

That cannot leave a life to live

That must obliterate

But come the fateful morning

When silence rules the world

We wiped it clean of every beast

We wiped it clean of every bird

The way we treat the animals

Will govern how we're judged

And if you slay the animals

Your soul, it will be dust