Jack Carney, Sheep Farmer

The minute the lamb drops,

There you are on your four-wheeler;

You've got to scoop it up

Before the foxes come.

Them foxes are bastards.

They'll kill as soon as they'll blink.

And you can't even fuckin' shoot em;

They're protected now.

There's a fella comes up from Dingle –

At night, you know, on the quiet –

With a rifle and a big spotlight

And he pumps off a few.

Without that, there'd be no sheep farms.

The government don't give a shit.

We're up all night through March and April –

Me, the brother, and me two boys –

Out in the dark with our four-wheelers,

Keeping the lambs from Mister Fox,

And we can't even shoot the fuckers.

How's that for a policy?