The unborn child's lament


although you can't see me, I am still here.

I have no rights, so there's nothing to fear.

Because you can't see me doesn't mean i'm not there-
but you protect the poor goldfish in a bag at the fair.


The goldfish has rights the law seems to say.

Fresh clean clear water and food every day.

No one can see me. No rights can I share,
unlike the poor goldfish in a bag at the fair.


Don't hurt the fox he should have the right
to hunt for his family by day, by night.

Defend him! Protest! Make the public aware
give him rights like the goldfish in a bag at the fair.


Blood sports are ugly a terrible thing.

Poor mr. Fox torn apart limb from limb.

The hunter enjoys it; he doesn't care,
and ignores the poor goldfish in a bag at the fair.


My name is foetus. I have no voice.

My mother will kill me. She has the choice.

My tiny body she refuses to bear,
but she defends the poor goldfish in a bag at the fair.


One day we will realise the lives we have lost.

Sixty million each year - absolute holocaust.

Then people will say 'did you protest? You were there!'

no

but I helped the poor goldfish in a bag at the fair.