| A darkened room re-opening at the stroke of twelve
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| Grim cascades of light construct a blurry image
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| The fridge-cage opens serving a putrid stiff
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| Rusted will serve up the casual plat du jour
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| Heat up the stove, my banquet commence
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| Amputate limbs, Delicatesse in extremis
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| There is no taste, like human rosbeef, haute-cuisine
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| Savouring every chunk that slides down the esophague
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| Feasting on man I survive reluctant and digestive
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| Sanguine, my culinary addiction
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| Just doing my part in depopulation
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| Another day, another night to rob the morgue
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| Retrieving chunks to stew what I adore
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| Exhuming chunks to flavour the casserole
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| I’m the grand chef brewing a new brand of food
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| Feasting in man I survive, reluctant, and digstive
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| Your relatives, I shove down my throat
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| Feeding of hate, preying on man, cannibalism with a cause
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| (Lead: Jacob)
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| (Lead: Bart)
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| (Lead: Jacob)
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| (Lead: Thjis)
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| Little lumps of meat — Adoring the flesh I eat
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| The dead no longer alone — In my belly to serve a better cause |