by Graham Earnshaw
Berlin, Earthday April 22, 1990
My name is Harold, my life is so merry,
I’m a ripening, succulent, blood-red strawberry
My brothers and sisters and I live so well
We are tended and nurtured by good farmer Bell.
Oh we love him so much, he is so good to us
He guards us and helps us like no one else does
He’s selfless and kind and he tends us with care
Farmer Bell is a saint with compassion to spare.
Good Farmer Bell was around us today
And I’m sure I distinctly did hear him say
That we strawberries soon would be ready to sell.
He will pick us and sell us! Oh! cruel Farmer Bell!
Oh we hate him so much, he is making us fat
Just to kill us and sell us, no more than that!
Our fate, we now find, is that we will be eaten.
But will we give in? No, we will not be beaten.
My name is Harold, I am no fairy
I’m a desperate cold kamikaze strawberry.
I will have my revenge on old Farmer Bell.
For this treacherous act, I will send him to hell.
Oh we hate him so much, we will do what we must
To bring Farmer Bell to an end that is just.
He deceived us, he doesn’t love us at all
He will sell us for money, does that not appall?
But how can I kill him? Farmer Bell is so huge
And I’m a petite little strawberry rouge
I could throw myself at him when he comes around,
Put out his eye and knock him to the ground.
Then we could block up his mouth and his nose
Until he stopped breathing. Oh, do you suppose
That would work? Maybe not. I know what we need
A professional assassin to handle the deed.
But we don’t have the money, the strawberries cried
Harold was silent. And then he replied:
I know what I’ll do. I will eat pesticide
Until poison chemicals fill my inside
Then I will make Farmer Bell want to eat me.
I’ll poison him dead. He will not defeat me.
Oh we hate him, we hate him, we hate Farmer Bell
We hate him much more than we can ever tell
He wants to kill us, but we’ll kill him first
From the moment he raised us, his life has been cursed.
Here he comes now! Farmer Bell, oh please stop!
Pick me and eat me! I’m the best of the crop!
He’s done it! He plucked me, he’s chewing me well!
Argghhh! There go the poisons to kill Farmer Bell.
You killed him, oh Harold, Kamikaze strawberry
You’ve sent a message which is clear, oh so very
Strawberry liberation rules okay
It’s kill or be killed on the farms of today.