Mum the Prostitute and Dad the Meat Grinder

Your own little slaves
Oh my God, they're in revolt.
I grew up in a place called Peru
My family's poor
My mother's a whore
And my daddy grinds pigs from the zoo
But one day he ate some raw chicken
Salmonella came to our house
He got a 'nooner with mum
Then saw that my father was stricken
He died the next day before dinner
As mother went out to make pay
She said that my dad was a sinner
And so we wouldn't have eggs
Oh sad, the terror, the horrible plight
That our poultry could not supply
So in the cold that very night
I cut of their heads so they'd die
Then I took them all down to dad's cellar
And got the meat grinder a' shakin'
And the next day I cooked us some breakfast
We didn't have eggs - we had bacon
Now in Peru, meat's at a shortage
So I killed mum where no one would find 'er
And that night just as I got hungry
I shoved Mum and Pop in the grinder