Choice Cuts Lyrics - Singles - Impaled

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 souffl, morbid matre 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 souffl, morbid matre 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 souffl, morbid matre d'