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Meat Means Murder - Live, Centro Iberico, 13 August 1982

de Conflict

The factory's still churning out, all processed, packed and neat
An obscure butchered substance and the label reads "meat"
Hidden behind false names such as pork, ham, veal and beef
An eye's an eye, a life's a life, the now forgotten belief
Yet, everyday production lines are feeding out this farce
To end up on your table, then shat out of your arse

Yet, still you're queuing, and still you're viewing
Sawing out limbs just right for stewing
Carcasses piled up in a heap
Sort, soft, juicy chunks from freezers deep
Well, can't you see that that juice is blood?
From newborn throats, red rivers flood
Blood from young hearts blood from the vein
Your blood, their blood, serves the same

Now you're at the table, sitting, grinning
Sitting there eating, you never realise the filling
It's served upon a sterile plate, you don't think of the killing
The furthest your brain takes you, "is it for frying or grilling?"
You moan about the seal cull, about the whale slaughter
But does it really matter whether it lives on land or water?
You've never had a fur coat, you think its cruel to the mink
Well, how about the cow, pig or sheep. Don't they make you think
Since the day that you were you born, you've never been told the missing link?

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