With hooked tip on their bills and dark brown and grey
Known as butcherbirds because on spikes and forks on branches they hang their small prey
To hunt to kill for survival in life is their way
Medium sized birds that in courage and fierceness does not lack
In their breeding Season humans they even attack
Their nesting tree and territory they vigorously defend
Even their own kind they do not treat as a friend
In untidy cup shaped nest of twigs high on fork of tree
The female lay green speckled eggs of five, four or three
Once seen and once heard you never again get them wrong
As they do have a beautiful bubbling sort of song
The few times into their nesting territory i happened to stray
They angrily mobbed me to send me on my way.
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