The stench of control hits the nose

Like the steam rising from the folds

Of skin on the killing floor

Like two legs parted by the knee

One hand holds two wrists and one stifles

The scream of the prey

Like the acrid rust of shackles

Ahead of us again instead of behind

It's like all of these that you're owned

Held down, weighed out

Tender flesh exposed

To the bone

Perfect remorseless restraining device

Refurbished for one purpose

Ownership of the depersonalized

Until it's us, we act surprised and civilized

But my brother, he's still hanging from a rope

My sister's got a hand around her throat

And the killing line runs a thousand at a time

Every hour of every day. But then you say

You're afraid I might "believe in violence"?

You best believe I live to see

Dead souls released

All cages broke

All bosses choked

On the blood of the beasts