This is me. This is you. This is the world that we live in.
When scientists have developed a way to generate meat without a soul
My flesh simply becomes something to be weighed, to be measured
And evidently, as the market is still fresh
You want to conjecture reasons as to why?
Why i ended up this way?
It was my choice? It was a sad sate of affairs?
How about you check your wife, your husband, your son and daughter
Your niece, nephew, your grandson and daughter.
Where there is a demand, there is always a supply
Didn’t you know, this is the age of capitalism
Economy, trade, a receipt, you get laid
You get raped, abused and misused
A number with no clues.
Check your values and after all that, check your front-window view.
I may be nameless, nocturnal,
battered, bruised, with a penchant for the suicidal
But it’s your money rubbing up between my legs
That ten pound note you fingered
As you went to buy bread.
It was your laugh, that put the idea in their head
Your encouragement that led me to this bed.
This is me, this is you, this is the world that we live in.
Before it fixes you
As another slave in this cattle market zoo.
[During the 2012 Olympics they expect 100,000’s of women to be trafficked into the UK to provide ‘entertainment’ within the sex industry for the millions that are coming to the United Kingdom. Don’t you dare turn a blind eye to this injustice. Get vocal, get active and make sure your community is not made a home to these wicked acts. Be the voice for these modern day slaves. Stop the traffick.]