Sick Butchers

I used to graze in a field,
 I used to breathe - I used to be alive
 Did chew the grass in the field
 Could see and hear the world around me
 See and fear man around me
 Had a virgin skin but now sold in supermarkets
 Now studded blankets
 Used to hear the cars and the birds going by
 And the people going by, they were my destiny
 They were my reason, my purpose in this field
 For their plates their cold bodies their car seat covers
 My soul for your soles of shoes
 You may like my taste you may like my warmth
 It may say in the bible that you can kill me
 ...but I don't want to die
 You try to stroke me in a field then go home
 And eat me as your meal