Olympic foie gras

PARIS, the french the olympics
Food loved by the few
Foie gras we create a vile disease
We know what to do
We farm the ducks and geese
You see healthy Bonny souls
And we force feed them we do
It’s called gavage
It’s frightening but sadly it is true

Fat and corn balls thrust down throats
By angry ignorant arses
Known as foie gras farmers
Oh yes they get their passes
Selling on the vile disease
Death and true corruption
Torture at a high degree
There is no interruption

Every day food thrust down throats
Until the birds are sore
The liver swells continued spells
Of gavage we know what for
Swelling into the lungs in fact
Breathing becomes poor
All this out of Sore throats
Which buyers of course ignore

These birds began as healthy souls
But after weeks of this
The agony is violent
and gradually their bliss
now it’s solidly awful
They splutter everyday
Can’t breathe. We create this anomaly
There is nothing they can say

The olympics is now offering
This ugly nasty fayre
Diseased toxic painful stuff
Riddled with despair
With torture and with anger
Tearful a lamentThese birds were
Sick and dying
Their bodies clearly spent

This my friends is foie gras
How can a human eat
Such evil canned or jarred or fresh
Loved by the elite
The agony is hourly
The spluttering the pain
The breathlessness the swelling
Again and again and again

Foie Gras the frenchies love it
Diseased fat liver they
Can’t wait to spoon it in their gobs
And smile at you and say
Who cares about the dainty ducks
The brilliant geese who cares
They know they suffer and that’s gone on
And the karmic debt who shares

The french the chefs the lot of them
Should see the suffering here
To eat such vile engorgement
And not feel an inner tear
These birds cough blood
They suffer
In inordinate ways
Basically being tortured
And creating this malaise.

Foie gras maliciously created
Karmically one of the worst foods imaginable