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Sometime in the future, the demand for human meat is high
On the intergalactic market, therefore many of us must die
So measures must be made, to accommodate these tastes
And not a single human being shall go to waste
Factories upon factories, machines upon machines
Needed for the process, of human harvesting
Humans artificially bred, pumped with foreign growth hormones,
Insuring maximum yield, but they must remove all the bones..
Conveyor belts carry the stripped and flayed meat stock
While discarded torsos rapidly fly down a chute as the by-product
The profit is great, as is the taste, of our roasted limbs & brains,
This fresh new delicacy is ready to be dispersed throughout the galaxy.
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