One butcher worked at the mincing works
He put meat and bones through the mincer
He dismember corpses and carcasses some more
The whole year round to abstinence

The moon rose above the mountain tops
And his strongly wear out to ambitions
He makes up one's mind to rape mostly corpse
But the reckless action leads to conception

Quiet voice one can hear remote
He gives expression to one's feelings
The son wasn't an extension of ancestor
Nothing can extrenuate his wrong doing

He died many years since
I haven't seen him since

The creation was extra-mural interment
Beyond expression criminal connection
External reality confirmed
This abscessed slime conglomeration