Dr. Harlow, behold the hooks
And hear the cows all screaming
Staccato bray
All drained and flayed
And somehow sounds like singing
You spool the tape deck
You're the conductor
A symphony of broken bovine
We like to have tea
With a doctor like he
And it always tastes so fine
Some we love
Some we hate
Some we eat
Walk into the office every day
To the tune of a screeching baboon
Baby monkeys down there
A pit of despair
Suffer the crawling gloom
And I draw the chalk line
So I can sleep fine
To a symphony of suffering and doom
I cut my teeth on weaker things
That can't fathom the hell that they're in
Their jittery eyes act as a disguise
But there is no nephesh within
A dog or cat, we all balk at that
But it's saccharin sentiment sappy
Rape, violate, kill, masticate
Cause it makes us so fat and so happy