The Bounty Hunter

The bounty hunter of to-day’s not armed with any gun
Instead he’s got a mobile phone to catch his victim’s on
A photograph, a video, is took without permission
Catching some poor bugger during a moments indisgression

Then off he scurries to the press to reap ill gotten gain
For flushing someone’s life unceremoniously down the drain
Again he’s off to catch another unsuspecting sod
Keeping tabs on famous folk, while waiting for the nod.

Camera poised, mic turned on, just waiting for the chance
To snap a pose or catch a word, this hunter’s gone freelance
No interest in the personal life their just about to hurt
It’s up for grabs, the public want us, digging up the dirt

Hovering like vultures round a disregarded corpse
Striping off what flesh is left and showing no remorse
It’s good to point the finger means that we’re being left alone
Someone else gets crucified while we are safe at home

Is it really what we want, seeing someone’s life in exposed
But for the grace of God go I, my life’s not disclosed
The punishments immense their lives are broken to excess
Left to wallow helplessly surrounded by their mess

If what we witness is correct and we are free from sin
Then open up the gates of Heaven we can all march in
Though in the distance I can hear the tolling of a bell
It’s not the gates of Heaven open, it’s the gates of Hell

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