You think I am a happy cow
giving you my milk somehow
grazing in the field all day
lying in the soft fresh hay?
You think I'm laughing with a smile
while the farmer in his guile
steals my calf away from me
to uncertain destiny?
And what of my beloved mate
sacrificed to fill your plate?
You think I'm talking bull to you?
Have you seen yet what farmers do
to all the bulls they cannot milk?
Those friendly farmers and their ilk?
Without my mate I'm incomplete
but you would rather eat his meat
My life's a concentration camp
they tattoo us with numbered stamp
where half my children- all the males
are slaughtered here despite my wails
And though I live to tell this tale
I'm stuffed with hormones in my jail
a living, breathing, rotting hell
so you can drink my blood as well
What kind of sanity is this?
You live on death and think it bliss
You're trained from birth in evil ways
and think it's happy cow these days
while blood is running, filled with pain
you slaughter us like it's a game
as advertisers lie to you
but you're so fooled - can't think it through
If all your children and your mate
were carved up daily for the plate
of all the jailers of your race
you think I'd have this happy face?
So wake up now you sleeping soul
you don't need my death to feel whole
for I'm not smiling, saying cheese
I'm screaming murder - help me please
I love eating cow. But I would not want my cow to live in a box. I would not want to torture the cow. Perhaps, let the cow die of old age. Let the cow run around in the field.