The Bins

The bins have not been taken
And the foxes have been in
Our hearts, our hearts are breaking
For the lives that were within
The bottles in the bedding
The plastic in the hedge
The gnawed at bones of battery hens
Scattered round the edge
You don’t know how it once was
The days they burned and shone
In cut grass and in vinegar
As summers hurried on
You don’t know how the blood felt
Hard beneath the skin
But the bins have not been taken
And the foxes have been in
We
We shall have our vengeance
We
We Shall have our vengeance