Desecrated

So that dodgy thrush hangs about for a few days, resting in peace in the tranquillity of a cemetery, recovering after an epic escape from a cage in Belgium... then the thugs clad in green, brandishing tools of voyeurism, descend onto its sanctuary, chasing it around, throwing slices of Hovis at it, making weird whistling noises in an attempt to seduce it out of the trees and using them stupid fuck off cameras that rattle like a Gatling gun...
Is it there today?? No?! Well that's a surprise...