music - Andrew LaBarre    lyrics - Ross Sewage       Parasitic worm buried in a womb    Another being born for our abuses    To serve mankind, it need not grow up    When inherently it has such nutritional uses       Graven goulash, make it posh    Sanguine soufflé, morbid maître d'       Gutted entrails brewing... choice cuts    Ruptured pustules spewing    Immature giblet pudding... choice cuts    Infanticidal cooking       I'm the ghoul of the culinary profession    Preparing this toddler for a meal    Served up with ghastly garnishes    A lividinous glaze congeals    Making use of my recipe selection    A myriad of ways to do the infant    Each dish stirring up my appetite    To engage in abortive devourement       Cleavers and whisks, my tools of dissection    A gas powered stove my crematory    The fridge acts as the juvenile's morgue    In a kitchen so bloody and gory       The body carbonizes in my oven    The stuffing held in by sutures    Ingredients from an embrionic sac    The act of an obstetrical butcher    Repeatedly basted in menstruation    Endometrium set aside for a toast    The once smoothe skin now crackles and burns    This will surely stunt its growth       Graven goulash, make it posh    Sanguine soufflé, morbid maître d'       (solo: "The Other White Meat" by A.S. LaBarre)       Prone on the dining room table    The babe is subjected to my fork    As I consume the first helpings    I delight in my toil and work    I clean my plate of all its dressings    Grazing on all the putrid gore    Merely whetting my taste buds    I am disposed to fix up some more       Candle-light flickers off my best china    The silver's been polished to a gleam    Despite masticating post-martem abortions    I'm more civilized than it may seem       Graven goulash, make it posh    Sanguine soufflé, morbid maître d'