Like sheep to the
Slaughterhouse
We go my dear
Where the heads have decided
the tails
Set forth, silently fuming/ fuming within
For are we not one body, bound by the one body concept?
Hurt/ wounded
Silently we go forth
Sickening is the feeling to be as
Pawns
In a chess game
To be knocked about
with very little regard
To be dispensed with
Management doesn't bother how we feel
It has been decided
We have no voice
Like sheep to the
Slaughterhouse
We go my dear
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