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
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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.