The slaughterhouse and its victims

Undercover looks at merchants
Markets and the wealth
It sees the dreaded slaughterhouse
And all thats done with stealth
The scrimping pinching scraping
Of time Along the line
The monopolistic money-mad
Each hard boiled inured sign

Compassion over killing
Nightmares every day
One pig every 5 seconds
They will not stand for delay
And so they do cut corners
And they make mistakes
And animals are tortured
Cut up whilst their body shakes

They have to cut their tails off
And they watch them wince in pain
Those who have had their throats slashed
Sometimes its done again
Because it wasnt carried out
In the correct way
And you can hear the whimpering
Every single day

Brutality is commonplace
The suffering is bad
Agony and anguish
One only can feel sad
Workers get amputations
Two a month at least
They also develop claw hands
Payment for the beast

They are or they are made to be
Chicken slaughters do
Happen every minute
Two dozen in full view
They screech they scream
They suffer so
There is debris in the air
Feces feathers snot and blood
It just gets everywhere

The slaughterers breathe it into
Their lungs what can they do
Pig slaughter it is horrific
What we had to do
The brains of pigs are vapourised
And so we do inhale
All that creepy cellular crap
Which is beyond the pale

Best by dates come back
From supermarkets and then we
Have to make them later
Fresher seemingly
They get away with murder
The evil that is there
If the carnivore saw half of what we see
And what we hear

Surely they’d go vegan
The fretting and remorse
How on the rack they shudder
Their eyes bulging ofcourse
Each eye on each other
Clearly they know they will
Be getting the same treatment
In their hearts we do instil

Such terror they unlucky
Accursed despairing they
Sick at heart and sorrrowful
All along the way
Searing scalding burning
Grinding gruelling they
Tear jerking and pathetic
Each moment of each day

They say its all humanely done
Nothing to regret
The corporates are liars
Empathy is set
At an awful factor
The blubbering we hear
It chills us to our marrow
And leaves us all in fear

Everywhere you wander
Blood streams with guts and snot
It is a hideosity
How they meet their lot
Formless grotesque twisted
Deformed and ghastly they
The victims they were beautiful
Little lambs and every day

They came so sweetly innocent
And were murdered in cold blood
Each watched each one murdered
It really was a flood
Of guts and skins and blood curdling screams
Of impropriety
Of tastelessness and coarseness
And servility

Can you feel our indignation
The irascibility
The affront and the injustice
Its everywhere to see
The carnivores continue
Eating every day
Not a bit offended
They remain blaise

It is abuse most awful
And some are profane
They try to hump the dying sheep
Despite all of their pain
Who really are the monsters here
The animals that we know
Who suffer such indignity
As they are made to go