We hear just now
That franks and sausages
May have human DNA
It must be from
Someone’s saliva
Or perhaps their piss
Along the way

Vegetarian sausage too have meat
No wonder where they are made
In apparatus never
Cleaned inside
And so the animals stayed

There to taint the unwholesome sausage
Jumping on the bandwagon, they
Spoke their lies to manufacturers
And those processors did away
With ethic in their lust for profit
Not a prophet now in sight
Processed food will never ever
Make ones body ever right

Should we need the chemists third eye
The DNA the last of those
Who go for all the processed rubbish
Like saliva finger nails they pose
Horse meat probably
Someones finger
Lost in that great chopping spree
Nobody would ever notice
Except the one who lost it he

Cannot play guitar
Not as well as he could before
He got his job in the sausage factory
The job he did abhor

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