Ladies and diners I make you, A shameful, degrading confession.
A deed of disgrace in the name of good taste, Though I did it, I meant no aggression.
A deed of disgrace in the name of good taste, Though I did it, I meant no aggression.
I had planted a garden last April, And lovingly sang it a ballad.
But later in June beneath a full moon, Forgive me, I wanted a salad!
So I slipped out and fondled a carrot, Caressing its feathery top.
With the force of a brute I tore out the root! It whimpered and came with a pop!
Then laying my hand on a radish. I jerked and it left a small crater.
Then with the blade of my True Value spade, I exhumed a slumbering tater!
Celery I plucked, I twisted a squash! Tomatoes were wincing in fear!
I choked the Romaine, It screamed out in pain, Their anguish was filling my ears!
I finally came to the lettuce, As it cringed at the top of the row.
With one wicked slice I beheaded it twice, As it writhed, I dealt a death blow.
I butchered the onions and parsley. My hoe was all covered with gore.
I chopped and I whacked without looking back, Then I stealthily slipped in the door.
My bounty lay naked and dying, So I drowned them to snuff out their life.
I sliced and I peeled as they thrashed and they reeled, On the cutting board under my knife.
I violated tomatoes, So their innards could never survive.
I grated and ground ‘til they made not a sound, Then I boiled the tater alive!
Then I took the small broken pieces, I had tortured and killed with my hands.
And tossed them together, heedless of whether, They suffered or made their demands.
I ate them. Forgive me, I’m sorry. But hear me, though I’m a beginner.
Those plants feel pain, though it’s hard to explain, To someone who eats them for dinner!
I intend to begin a crusade For PLANT’S RIGHTS, including chick peas.
The A.C.L.U. will be helping me too. In the meantime, please pass the blue cheese.
