In the butcher house,
A place of horror, where death is so near,
No joy or delight,
Only sorrow and despair reign.
All air is thick with Graaf's morbid scent,
As the animals are enclosed, with no chance to repent.
Their fate is sealed,
With no escape in sight,
Hunger gnaws at them, a constant blight.
As they wait to be slaughtered, they stand,
The weaker animals are taken,
At the Merciless butcher's command.
No rights, no privileges, at the moment to claim,
Starvation and pain, the animal’s constant fate,
In this gruesome place, where life is so great.
The first animal to complain, is the first to die,
As the butcher's knife slices with a sigh.
No mercy or pity, on this hellish ground,
Only the strong and the ruthless are found.
Fights break out, among the animals here,
In this vicious cycle of death and fear.
Only sadness and gloom, in the butcher house's domain,
Where life is so cheap, and death's just a gain.
So, if you hear the cries, of animals in pain,
Remember the butcher house, where they're all slain.
And life is just a fleeting memory,
The Butcher houses