This is an invitation made out to beast and fowl If you've been licking chops for fat cuts from fatlings Then you pick your ass on up to come to the party It's time to get on down and pack that belly full This is an invitation and I would not advise That you come wearing something less than what you'd marry in And if you're really stupid I can make it crystal clear What's on the menu for tonight Their princes. All their rams What pretty faces, from all the land (What could have made him take them all?) Hey Son of Man We'll taste it Intestine coil Meat in casing Fats in oil We're going to taste it Laid in soil Because this is an invitation And we'll dance 'til we're broken, 'til the morning returns And we'll dance 'til we fall in the fields, wasted, howling, flies in our teeth Drunk on our meal, wasted and howling and dripping and falling and