Boonenzuppe

Child in my tummy,
Zupper served, yum-yummy,
Baby fingers fried to crisp,
Tangy party at my lips.

Why nail three babies to a tree?
That's no fun at all...
Nail one baby to three trees,
Watch the organs slip and fall.

Skin them slowly at the post,
They've got no feelings, no?
They'll feel tickly at the most,
As the blood pools flow.

Doctor's bill of money-moneys,
Makes me feel warm inside,
That they can chop my baby out,
For quarters, pennies, dimes.

Condoms on bananas,
Babies drowned in lakes,
They tell me to succeed in sex,
Then get paid for my mistakes.

Abortionist, abortionist,
Wherefore art thou, friend?
The morals of my story changed,
I don't want to read the end.

I don't want to be a heroine,
I don't want to sacrifice,
Deny, when told my choice is sin,
Deny, the other's life.

Afraid the public might know,
The babies that I hammer,
Left to hang from growing trees,
A lifelong bloodied banner.

Ashamed to reveal,
These doubts now that I feel,
My child gone, because I, I, I,
Boonenzuppe; baby pie.

end.