Arts
This is a song I wrote after reading about the ravens in the Tower of London.
Long ago, they were the city’s street cleaning squad as they are now. The Tower’s executions were, to them, a rare treat of meat.
Now they're a tourist greet, their bellies packed with blood biscuits rabbit. Pampered, praised, and plump, they are awarded military rank and are subject to the same strict code as soldiers, with some court martialed and dishonourably discharged for bad behaviour.