One butcher worked at the mincing works
He put meat and bones through the mincer
He dismember corpses and carcasses some more
The whole year round to abstinence
The moon rose above the mountain tops
And his strongly wear out to ambitions
He makes up one's mind to rape mostly corpse
But the reckless action leads to conception
Quiet voice one can hear remote
He gives expression to one's feelings
The son wasn't an extension of ancestor
Nothing can extrenuate his wrong doing
He died many years since
I haven't seen him since
The creation was extra-mural interment
Beyond expression criminal connection
External reality confirmed
This abscessed slime conglomeration