I am a traveling chef
My knife never rests
I’ve got blood on my hands
And ice in my chest
And I’ll warm you up and cool you down
and cook you tenderly

My pots and pans are
the skulls and rib cages
of beautiful feeble creatures
with spiteful, able features
I warm them up and cool them down
and cook them tenderly

First I smell
Then you see,
Then I taste
And then we feel

My meat of choice is
Wild hearts and free souls
Lured in by adjustable brain waves.
From a controlled breeding ground
To ensure match
Sweetened with a deceiving tongue