Your dry throat creaks without a saliva to sputter As your pulpy dehydrated tongue soundlessly threshes Days without sustenance spent shackled and fettered Emaciated torso aches for the warm taste of flesh...
I will make a meal of you, your hunger I'll sate Saw off your leg at the knee to put on your dinner plate Try not to wince at the pain that you feel As I mince up your calf to prepare your next meal...
Cauterise the gargled wound to stave off the haemorrhage You should savor the thought of your repast Choke down this bitter meal in spite of your revulsion Though how long can your source of food last?
Keeping yourself alive as you're force-fed your own flesh If you don't eat up, you're truly dead meat Legs turned to stumps, bloody drinks gargled in clumps In this case you really are what you eat...
Quadriplegic you feed as your dinner is served Waste not ; want not, though there's not much to conserve Severed and severely served upon a platter of splatter After a while the source of the sustenance barely even matters...
Now a half-eaten torso gorged to the glut Piece by piece you are fed the chicest cuts As the dinner-bell rings your bloody chops are feverishly licked At the sight of your own roasted fat turned and browned on a spit...
Your own meat in your mouth tastes bitter and internecine Noxious and moist, you get a taste of your own medicine Gnashing, pieces of your limbs with delight Digesting your death with each grotesque bloody bite
What's eating you? The question seems to moot Scraping chunks of your feet out of your blood-soaked sopping boot Bash open bones picked clean to suckle at the marrow As your culinary milieu of options inexorably narrows...
Feeding time comes again, the thorax falls victim to this slaughter Blood, pus and sebum replace wine, whiskey and water Sometimes survival will cost you an arm and a leg Your spittle running, red with bits of reeking bloody dregs...
[Lead - Mike]
Masticate your own genitals, choke on your bludgeoned testicles With a hunger that will not be denied The sweetest of meats is your soft, fatty teats That I'll be stuffing your face with tonight
Puking up your own skin, just to devour it again Is a treat you'll save for dessert Fresh meat for your lunch, fibula cracked, drained and crunched As your overstuffed gullet gasps and blurts...
Your crudely resected anatomy is a wretched grisly sight But your stumps once arms just whet your appetite Nibbling at the sinews of your bloody forearms and wrists Ravenously devouring your shredded survival in fleshly chunks and meaty bits...
Eviscerate yourself to gnaw at your own intestines Bones from severed fingers facilitate this haphazard self-dissection Clutch at grume inside your bowels with half-eaten grubby stumps Pulling out the repugnant meal in grotesque tumescent clumps...
Remaining fingers prying off your succulent gouged out gums Gnaw at your stringy cheek lining and masticate your insatiable tongue But the pieces you ingest in carnivorous abandon Fall out of the gaping that you have torn in your intestines
Gnash the meat from your avulsed face in a frenzied rush No genitals, no feet, no legs, no appendage left uncrushed Half-eaten tongue oozes spittle down your face - your hunger undiminished Only when your partially devoured innards prolapse will this meal at last be finished