[Verse 1] (Sound effect: A heavy, rusted iron meat hook sliding along an overhead steel rail. A low, clinical refrigerator hum vibrates the sub-bass frequencies.) The fluorescent lights flicker over white plastic sheets Deep in the basement where the dark alley meets You were lured by a promise of a rare, hidden feast But you walked into the larder of a mechanical beast The heavy vault doors slam shut with a thud The drain in the center is thirsty for blood The aprons are hanging, the bone saws are clean Welcome to the floor of the processing machine. [Verse 2] (Sound effect: The sudden, deafening shriek of a bandsaw spinning up to maximum speed, tearing through cold air.) The conveyor belt starts with a rhythmic, low groan Moving you closer to the tables of stone The hooks drop from pulleys, they don't use any ropes They hook into fabric and they hook into hopes The butcher’s not human, it’s a hydraulic press Designed to strip down all your earthly excess It peels back the leather, it tears at the coat As a thick, greasy grease starts to bubble in your throat. [Chorus] (Sound effect: A massive, explosive industrial deathstep bass drop. Crushing, distorted electronic drums mimic bone breaking.) Welcome to the butcher! Welcome to the line! The inventory's ready for the harvesting time! We strip down the wicked, we clean out the state! You’re nothing but weight on the inventory plate! The hooks are all sliding, the cleavers descend! This is a gruesome, industrial end! [Verse 3] (Sound effect: The wet, crushing sound of a heavy pneumatic piston stamping down onto raw muscle.) The hydraulic clamps secure your arms to the rail As the tenderizer needles begin to prevail They puncture the skin in a systematic grid Paying back the price for the things that you did The cold salt-water flushes over the floor Washing the remnants toward the drain by the door Your fat is rendered down to lubricate the gears While the speakers play a loop of your family’s tears. [Verse 4] (Sound effect: Hundreds of tiny, frantic metallic scraping sounds, like thousands of scalpel blades vibrating on stainless steel.) The mincer is waiting at the end of the track A vortex of blades that you cannot push back It draws in the ankles, it purées the bone Turning your existence into liquid and stone The packaging station is sealing the skin Wrapping up the horror that you're trapped inside in No lawyers or money can pause the machine It’s the cleanest execution that the world's ever seen. [Bridge] (Sound effect: The music violently cuts out into a dead, claustrophobic silence, save for a slow, mechanical heartbeat pulse.) The physical agony is just stage number one The house wants your psyche before it is done The walls light up bright with a thousand digital screens Projecting a loop of your most sickening scenes Your central nervous system is hot-wired to the wall Forcing your consciousness to feel the weight of it all An eternal, unblinking, digital feedback strain Trapped in the processing... forever in pain. [Guitar/Synth Solo] (Sound effect: A chaotic, screeching solo where a distorted synthesizer and a grinding industrial saw sound fight for dominance, rising in pitch until the audio clips.) [Chorus] (Sound effect: The heavy industrial deathstep beat smashes back in at maximum volume, frantic and stuttering.) Welcome to the butcher! Welcome to the line! The inventory's ready for the harvesting time! We strip down the wicked, we clean out the state! You’re nothing but weight on the inventory plate! The hooks are all sliding, the cleavers descend! This is a gruesome, industrial end! [Outro] (Sound effect: The music slows to a heavy, limping electronic thud. The sound of a vacuum-sealing machine hissing out air.) The conveyor stops... the shipment is packed... The ledger is balanced... the data is tracked... The floor is washed clean... the neon shines bright... Waiting for the next one... to walk in tonight... (Sound effect: A sharp, metallic click of a meat locker door locking from the outside, followed by total, freezing silence.) [Verse 1] (Sound effect: A heavy, rusted iron meat hook sliding along an overhead steel rail. A low, clinical refrigerator hum vibrates the sub-bass frequencies.) The fluorescent lights flicker over white plastic sheets Deep in the basement where the dark alley meets You were lured by a promise of a rare, hidden feast But you walked into the larder of a mechanical beast The heavy vault doors slam shut with a thud The drain in the center is thirsty for blood The aprons are hanging, the bone saws are clean Welcome to the floor of the processing machine. [Verse 2] (Sound effect: The sudden, deafening shriek of a bandsaw spinning up to maximum speed, tearing through cold air.) The conveyor belt starts with a rhythmic, low groan Moving you closer to the tables of stone The hooks drop from pulleys, they don't use any ropes They hook into fabric and they hook into hopes The butcher’s not human,
