| Song | Chummified |
| Artist | Cattle Decapitation |
| Album | Humanure |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Cattle Decapitation, Ryan | |
| The sport of killing. | |
| Hanging by hook and 1,000lb test | |
| Predator vs. predator | |
| To turn these waters red | |
| The sharks go berserk | |
| They circle the boat | |
| We hide with machetes and knives | |
| Ambush and cut their throats | |
| Chopped up. | |
| Chunks. Cuts. | |
| Frozen in buckets of blood | |
| With my trusty machete | |
| I carve the parts to summon the sharks | |
| Lurking around the jetty | |
| In a frenzy they're circling, their incisors ready | |
| To masticate and to munch | |
| These things you call humans but we call it lunch | |
| They smell it from miles away | |
| I stand at the dock now a butchering block | |
| Smashing. | |
| Hacking. Laughing. | |
| We carry a payload | |
| Chopped torsos, heads and limbs | |
| Ground into a mulch | |
| Frozen and chummified | |
| Intestines. | |
| Fresh organs | |
| Left on the dock, reeking, cokked by the sun | |
| So pungent | |
| Disturbing. | |
| Vomiting induced an mixed with the chyme. | |
| This is blood. | |
| Not ashes. | |
| No mourning. | |
| No love. Sharks go berserk when the blood starts to spurt from the stern to the bow human chum is thrown out | |
| They never thought this would be the way they'd eventually die. | |
| Shredded into bite-sized pieces - a human goresicle. | |
| Knee-deep in intestines, gray soupy mixture resembling chyme. | |
| Sloshing heaps mobilized by waves distributing the piles. | |
| Granulized. | |
| Homocide. | |
| Chummified. |
| zuo qu : Cattle Decapitation, Ryan | |
| The sport of killing. | |
| Hanging by hook and 1, 000lb test | |
| Predator vs. predator | |
| To turn these waters red | |
| The sharks go berserk | |
| They circle the boat | |
| We hide with machetes and knives | |
| Ambush and cut their throats | |
| Chopped up. | |
| Chunks. Cuts. | |
| Frozen in buckets of blood | |
| With my trusty machete | |
| I carve the parts to summon the sharks | |
| Lurking around the jetty | |
| In a frenzy they' re circling, their incisors ready | |
| To masticate and to munch | |
| These things you call humans but we call it lunch | |
| They smell it from miles away | |
| I stand at the dock now a butchering block | |
| Smashing. | |
| Hacking. Laughing. | |
| We carry a payload | |
| Chopped torsos, heads and limbs | |
| Ground into a mulch | |
| Frozen and chummified | |
| Intestines. | |
| Fresh organs | |
| Left on the dock, reeking, cokked by the sun | |
| So pungent | |
| Disturbing. | |
| Vomiting induced an mixed with the chyme. | |
| This is blood. | |
| Not ashes. | |
| No mourning. | |
| No love. Sharks go berserk when the blood starts to spurt from the stern to the bow human chum is thrown out | |
| They never thought this would be the way they' d eventually die. | |
| Shredded into bitesized pieces a human goresicle. | |
| Kneedeep in intestines, gray soupy mixture resembling chyme. | |
| Sloshing heaps mobilized by waves distributing the piles. | |
| Granulized. | |
| Homocide. | |
| Chummified. |
| zuò qǔ : Cattle Decapitation, Ryan | |
| The sport of killing. | |
| Hanging by hook and 1, 000lb test | |
| Predator vs. predator | |
| To turn these waters red | |
| The sharks go berserk | |
| They circle the boat | |
| We hide with machetes and knives | |
| Ambush and cut their throats | |
| Chopped up. | |
| Chunks. Cuts. | |
| Frozen in buckets of blood | |
| With my trusty machete | |
| I carve the parts to summon the sharks | |
| Lurking around the jetty | |
| In a frenzy they' re circling, their incisors ready | |
| To masticate and to munch | |
| These things you call humans but we call it lunch | |
| They smell it from miles away | |
| I stand at the dock now a butchering block | |
| Smashing. | |
| Hacking. Laughing. | |
| We carry a payload | |
| Chopped torsos, heads and limbs | |
| Ground into a mulch | |
| Frozen and chummified | |
| Intestines. | |
| Fresh organs | |
| Left on the dock, reeking, cokked by the sun | |
| So pungent | |
| Disturbing. | |
| Vomiting induced an mixed with the chyme. | |
| This is blood. | |
| Not ashes. | |
| No mourning. | |
| No love. Sharks go berserk when the blood starts to spurt from the stern to the bow human chum is thrown out | |
| They never thought this would be the way they' d eventually die. | |
| Shredded into bitesized pieces a human goresicle. | |
| Kneedeep in intestines, gray soupy mixture resembling chyme. | |
| Sloshing heaps mobilized by waves distributing the piles. | |
| Granulized. | |
| Homocide. | |
| Chummified. |