Year of the Pig

Pigs at the trough show no fear

Fat full of death they will not starve this year

Feed stains their skin in the mud

Fed through the nose plant their feet in the blood

Pigs at the trough getting fat

Surfeit of the beast turned to tricks for a feast

Tear into the filth like a whore

Suck the meat from the bones leave the corpse on the floor

Pigs at the trough disappear

One final meal before kissing the spear

Skins on the hook left to dry

Just use the flesh pay no mind to the hide

Pigs at the trough slit and squeal

Done up and stuck like a pig for a meal

Painted and tied and dressed up

Get it on your hands as it fills your cup

Pigs at the trough are to blame

They are the monsters we never became

they poison our crops and our name

We hate that we need them to manage our shame

Pigs at the trough live in grime

Carrion meals fit for these profane swine

No mind to the scum they live in

They tremble in fear as they swallow your sin

Pigs at the trough swell and burst

Bearing the brunt as they launder the cursed

We keep our pigs in a pen

Our place to defile again and again and again and again

Pigs killing pigs turned to pigs killing pigs

Pigs fed to pigs turned to pigs fed to pigs

The farmers asleep under the tree

No ones here watching over us

Ashamed of what pigs mean to men

Ashamed of what we do to them

Ashamed of the pig in our head

Ashamed so we kill them instead

Pigs at the trough are obscene

Punish the products but not the machine

Pregnant with guilt and disgrace

Delivering scorn on the mess they create

The pigs at the trough are pristine

They live in our dirt and still they stay clean

Recoil from the stigma and hate

And suffer the pig who can't change its fate