“Chop, chop, chop. Beef, pork, and chicken, Doesn’t matter what it is if the blade is licking. Chop, chop, chop. Cold dead eyes, On this table we end lives. Cut the mass of meat, Hand and feet slice off neat. Thick thighs fight and squirm, Still we slice them off with a wrist so firm. Chop, chop, chop. Bones and brisket. Loins and steak, Keep on chopping our blade doesn’t break. Flesh is flesh, the blood won’t stop, Breaking bones until they pop. Steel blade in hand, and soul long gone, We carry out what can’t be undone. The work isn’t finished until the body runs dry, Tears for them we’ll
...more
