watched the stressed animal behind the window
what i can't hear is what i see
witnessed castration behind the counter
what i can't feel is what i hear

to choose
never encouraged
passion
denies what's taught
my own eyes and heart
forget what's taught

(and the carrots are looking delicious)

this is my way
the way i'm gonna live it
this is my way to take a bite to live it

and if that annoys you
well that's only your problem.

(Is there ever silence in slaughter house?
Does the blood ever stop hitting the concrete?
Through the class we can watch it - a turtle hitting it's head
agaist the four walls of its prison cell.
It does not make much noise,
or could we hear the screams?
Do we really have to go this far?)