You feel the chill of death,
You know that your time has come,
Fear and pain will be his food,
The blood will satisfy his thirst.
Crammed in a pen,
Between shit and mud,
Condemned to die,
We were born for this.
Your skin your flesh your blood
Slaughterhouse!
Your soul your life your pain
Your skin your flesh your blood
Slaughterhouse!
Your soul your life your pain
Breathe your last breath,
Marching towards your end,
Waiting for you turn for death
Hoping it's not the end.
Your skin your flesh your blood
Slaughterhouse!
Your soul your life your pain
Your skin your flesh your blood
Slaughterhouse!
Your soul your life your pain
Blood leaves your wound,
Spills all over the place,
Your body loses strength,
It slowly says goodbye.
Soon your limbs were cut,
The skin of your flesh is torn,
Your guts taken out
Your body now is food