I became obsessed by the meals I ate at a restaurant in Macau
The meat and buns and noodles there just tasted so far out
The Wong family that ran the joint were quite the daffy bunch
But I didn’t mind and they were kind when I came in to grab lunch
The flesh floating within my soup didn’t come from pigs or chickens
If I knew then what I know now it would have made me sickened
*Rude customers and dirty players would disappear without a trace
Back in the kitchen they were being cut up and prepped for me to taste
Struck in the skull with a mallet the prostitute was slain
She hit the ground as they continued to pound until she was leaking brains
The husband and wife took her life and dragged her in the back
They ripped out her guts and cut her up once her carcass was on the rack

A secret floating in my soup—the hooker’s flesh I was eating
The night before she was on the floor, beaten, carved and bleeding
The meat grinder it pulped her flesh once her heart stopped beating
About me other dining patrons delighted in their feeding
A drunken man harassed their daughter one night after closing time
They knocked him down and crushed his skull as punishment for his crime
Limbs chopped off, guts removed, the consequence for sin
Fluffy buns packed with his meat, he was never seen again

The meat buns were exceptional, I couldn’t get enough
I ate them down round after round until I was properly stuffed
When I was done I gave my thanks and was just about to leave
But before I left I was insulted by a Vietnamese named Quy
He had some comments about my skin, he didn’t dig honkies
In his native tongue he had some fun and called me a white donkey
I cussed him out and stormed out the door, time to take my leave
The guilt ate at me so I returned very late to apologize for making a scene
Mrs. Wong greets me at the door, her hands and apron caked in bloodstains
She is very kind but quickly shoos me away, she’s acting very strange
Something isn’t right and curiosity drives me to stick around
I lurk in the shadows and when the back door opens I spy Quy’s carcass on the ground
I know now I’ve been eating human flesh and the taste is nothing short of divine
I feel no shame for the people I ate and I ate them all the time
They were no good in life but they were delicious on my plate, they served a purpose there
I miss the Wong’s and their delicious dishes, the aroma of cooking humans in the air

*This verse was erroneously skipped when recording vocals, unfortunately as it flows the narrative a little better, but hey, "primitive death metallll duuuuuude"....