| Song | Lips & Assholes |
| Artist | Cattle Decapitation |
| Album | Humanure |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Cattle Decapitation, Ryan | |
| There are corners of this world that should not be explored | |
| There are needles hidden in the candy | |
| It all starts with a life | |
| Transformed by a knife | |
| Into food not fit for dogs | |
| Ignorance is death | |
| And in this life you've been victimized | |
| Your American mind | |
| Materialized | |
| We get what we want when we want it. | |
| Consumer's head becomes trash receptable | |
| Cycle of human spawned hell defecating back into its face | |
| You're as unclean as the meat in your bowels | |
| Picked up off the floor and brushed off to find a home in your intestinal tract | |
| All your life you never knew what went into the meat | |
| As good as any roadkill you'll find in the street | |
| They made that shit from discarded bits of snouts and lips | |
| Rat feces swept from the rafters now food in the hereafter | |
| Ah your ignorance astounds me | |
| No rhyme. | |
| No reason. | |
| No boundary to how insane we have become | |
| The juice off the floor becomes an additive | |
| A waste bin of gore thown in for shits and giggles | |
| Helpless heap at the mercy of some freak | |
| Some **** in charge of decontaminating the meat | |
| Who wipes his ass without washing his hands, your must understand that everyday you ingest some sort of disease | |
| You did not kill it. | |
| You did not clean it. | |
| You'd probably **** it if you couldn't eat it | |
| Sick, Depraved everyday human. | |
| Stupid consumer with faith in humanity | |
| Led without a fight straight to the grave. | |
| Birth. Agony. | |
| Death. Defiled. | |
| Processed. | |
| Packaged. | |
| Sccanned. | |
| Purchased. | |
| Prepared. | |
| Eaten. Digested. | |
| Feces. |
| zuo qu : Cattle Decapitation, Ryan | |
| There are corners of this world that should not be explored | |
| There are needles hidden in the candy | |
| It all starts with a life | |
| Transformed by a knife | |
| Into food not fit for dogs | |
| Ignorance is death | |
| And in this life you' ve been victimized | |
| Your American mind | |
| Materialized | |
| We get what we want when we want it. | |
| Consumer' s head becomes trash receptable | |
| Cycle of human spawned hell defecating back into its face | |
| You' re as unclean as the meat in your bowels | |
| Picked up off the floor and brushed off to find a home in your intestinal tract | |
| All your life you never knew what went into the meat | |
| As good as any roadkill you' ll find in the street | |
| They made that shit from discarded bits of snouts and lips | |
| Rat feces swept from the rafters now food in the hereafter | |
| Ah your ignorance astounds me | |
| No rhyme. | |
| No reason. | |
| No boundary to how insane we have become | |
| The juice off the floor becomes an additive | |
| A waste bin of gore thown in for shits and giggles | |
| Helpless heap at the mercy of some freak | |
| Some in charge of decontaminating the meat | |
| Who wipes his ass without washing his hands, your must understand that everyday you ingest some sort of disease | |
| You did not kill it. | |
| You did not clean it. | |
| You' d probably it if you couldn' t eat it | |
| Sick, Depraved everyday human. | |
| Stupid consumer with faith in humanity | |
| Led without a fight straight to the grave. | |
| Birth. Agony. | |
| Death. Defiled. | |
| Processed. | |
| Packaged. | |
| Sccanned. | |
| Purchased. | |
| Prepared. | |
| Eaten. Digested. | |
| Feces. |
| zuò qǔ : Cattle Decapitation, Ryan | |
| There are corners of this world that should not be explored | |
| There are needles hidden in the candy | |
| It all starts with a life | |
| Transformed by a knife | |
| Into food not fit for dogs | |
| Ignorance is death | |
| And in this life you' ve been victimized | |
| Your American mind | |
| Materialized | |
| We get what we want when we want it. | |
| Consumer' s head becomes trash receptable | |
| Cycle of human spawned hell defecating back into its face | |
| You' re as unclean as the meat in your bowels | |
| Picked up off the floor and brushed off to find a home in your intestinal tract | |
| All your life you never knew what went into the meat | |
| As good as any roadkill you' ll find in the street | |
| They made that shit from discarded bits of snouts and lips | |
| Rat feces swept from the rafters now food in the hereafter | |
| Ah your ignorance astounds me | |
| No rhyme. | |
| No reason. | |
| No boundary to how insane we have become | |
| The juice off the floor becomes an additive | |
| A waste bin of gore thown in for shits and giggles | |
| Helpless heap at the mercy of some freak | |
| Some in charge of decontaminating the meat | |
| Who wipes his ass without washing his hands, your must understand that everyday you ingest some sort of disease | |
| You did not kill it. | |
| You did not clean it. | |
| You' d probably it if you couldn' t eat it | |
| Sick, Depraved everyday human. | |
| Stupid consumer with faith in humanity | |
| Led without a fight straight to the grave. | |
| Birth. Agony. | |
| Death. Defiled. | |
| Processed. | |
| Packaged. | |
| Sccanned. | |
| Purchased. | |
| Prepared. | |
| Eaten. Digested. | |
| Feces. |