| I stare into a belly through the eyes of a beast
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| Made a toast to life and commence the feast
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| We chewed up mitten creams till our mouths would ooze and foul
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| Devour man from meat, sucking marrow from the bone
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| Washed it down with wine, Vintage 1953
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| Leaned back in our chairs, sucked a bone and picked our teeth
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| Gazing at our bellies, I watched the unfolding of time
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| Stricken by a bolt eyed brother, there’s no way that child is mine
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| Silence gripped the table till the sobbing began
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| And her console and the scolding from the wives of all the men
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| To glare down at the plates, faces flushing red
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| The women now demanded a platter with my head
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| The knowledge in my head fit the anger in my heart
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| The vomit in my hands meant the chocking will soon start
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| I grabbed the throat of the nearest shrew, she was sitting at my right
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| Someone brained me with a skillet, boom boom, out go the lights
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| I was watching from above my body
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| Face down on the floor
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| They gathered round my carcass, gasping in horror
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| What do we do about the body, someone cried
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| I heard them without a body, «there can be no trial»
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| But the meat all quickly changed and they all got down to work
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| That is how it was I who became the final course |