Smile to oblivion, tear it down.
Buried under the kingdom’s crown,
As the wife of the farmer strikes a deal
You cast a glance at the evening’s meal,
This rotten dish of sacrifice
An animal not left to its own device
Bred in anxiousness and greed
Don’t cry murder, murder and misdeed
Know that on Hell you feed.
Every bite a bit of lost soul,
When you’re done, you’re no longer whole;
Sold to Lucifer himself,
To him you are wealth.
So grab a fork and dig in
This can only end in sin.
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