Like your holocaust,
We are led to the slaughter.
Food and drink at a cost,
Your milk is taken from sons and daughters.
Ribs and racks,
Straight from our backs.
But it doesn’t stop there,
For food so fine,
You put your own people through wear,
Standing at the line,
Working for the perfect rind.
In a cold fridge they labor,
8 to 12 hours a day,
Oh what a bore,
All their days just wasting away.
And for what?
A taste of my butt?!
Enjoy my meat,
But while you eat,
Just remember the sacrifices,
As you gnaw on our carcasses.
WILDsound Festival 