My Cannibal Fantasy

My meat would be fresh, neither frozen nor preserved
There will be no tombs desecrated; no coffins unearthed
For health reasons, i would hunt only the living
It's the thrill of the hunt and its only the beginning

I would bathe my body in a bathtub of blood
And slip scraps of flesh through the cage of my dove
First i would remove the tongue, nose and eyes
I want the dehumanization to magnify the cries

I would cook the lean meat, and cook it rare
And I would roast the eyes into a dead, frozen stare
The tongue I'd eat raw, a seasoning of pepper
I'd sit on my rug of bearskin and leopard

They would be kept alive, to ward off the plagues
Of decomposition, degeneration and decay
But when the meat's all cut off, they are free to decline
And i won't be bothered by a fragrance so fine

My steaks of human flesh would be tender to the touch
And my sterling silver knife would be polished and buffed
When i sever with the knife, blood will stream out
And splash in my eyes like a geyser's shout

When this feast is through; this repast complete
I'll wipe off my face, and into the dark night I'll creep
In my wildest dreams, I'll remember victims from before
With my scythe by my side, I'll conquer victims one more