Spin-doctors Confused
There's too little gristle and not enough fat
For this steak to be made into some sort of hat
So let us determine its destiny now
And justify fully the death of a cow
By lobbing it into the glass chandelier
And raise, if we can, just a moderate cheer
For the slaughtermen bold, with their stun-guns and knives
Sharpened each night by intemperate wives
In bonnets of liver, in trilbies of veal
Kept on their heads by the Slaughterman's Seal
And only removed when the lights have gone down
For it's certainly true that in some parts of town
Where gilt candelabra, with offal bedecked
Are taken asunder and ritually wrecked
A cranium covered, while darkness prevails
Is a sordid rebuke to the Princess of Wales
The Slaughterman's patron, the most sacred cow
To whom all the slaughtermen's wives take a vow
Of bare-faced obedience, broken by none
But the clan who invented the hamburger bun
To sop up the worst of the slaughterhouse waste
From the worst of the wurst where the waste gets misplaced
To the primest of ribs and the choicest of cuts
The spleen and the pancreas, eyeballs and guts
Never dreamt that their bun would embrace such a feast
And their innermost secrets would then be released
Of a slaughterhouse mopped by the stuff it shipped out
Of the shouting and swearing, the blood in a gout
Of slaughtermen dancing in line like Rockettes
With their wives on the sidelines all placing their bets
On which Rockette man the next gout-squeezer hits
Distracting the dancers by flashing their tits
But slaughtermen dancing, bedecked in their hats
Ignore the distractions, the blood in the vats
Arises to venge each poor haberdashed cow
The band slows the dancers with "Who's sorry now?"
The slaughtermen, weeping, don't see the ghoul coming
Nor the wives, for the hats all their senses are numbing
The rats, though, see all; soon their verminly giggles
Resound through the hall as the dancing line wriggles
"Rats!!!", the wives scream, giving Specter of Slaughter
To Ronald McDonald - who sure didn't oughter
Be present when talk is of beef - and why's that? ...
But no matter -
Contributors: | loaf, P, Roland, Kansas Sam, Beefy(appositely enough), Beefy, E Greejius. |
Poem finished: | 5th June 2003. |