A darkened room re-opening at the stroke of twelve
Grim cascades of light construct a blurry image
The fridge-cage opens serving up a putrid stiff
Rusted tools will serve up the carnal plat du jour
Heat up the stove, my banquet commence
Amputated limbs, delicatesse in extremis
There is no taste, like human rosbeef, haute-cuisine
Savouring every chunk that slides down the esophagus
Feasting on man I survive reluctant and digestive
Sanguine, my culinary addiction
Just doing my part in depopulation
Another day, another night to rob the morgue
Retrieving chunks to stew what I adore
Exhuming chunks to flavour the casserole
I'm the grand chef brewing a new brand of food
Feasting in man I survive, reluctant and digestive
Your relatives, I shove down my throat
Feeding of hate, preying on man, cannibalism with a cause
Little lumps of meat - adoring the flesh I eat
The dead no longer alone - In my belly to serve a better cause |
