Blood Sports - The Style Council

Who takes the heart from a stag

Who gets a hard-on with blood on their hands

Who strips the wonder of life

When they don’t have the right

But they say it’s fair game

And they won’t feel no pain

As we feel no shame

So let the sun come down

Let our eyes close the blind

Let the rivers run dry

Let the forest life die

But who are they to decide

As if their right is divine

As if their right sublime

Who wins the hooves loses respect

Who kills the Grace treads with intent —

Into Heaven’s domain, playing little Christians

Hear their voice soar in church

Giving thanks for this earth —

Then destroying its birth

So let the sun come down

Let our eyes close the blind

Let the rivers run dry

Let the forest life die

But who are they to decide

As if their right is divine

As if their right sublime