In a grim Montana way out west
With a sky as big as doom
The little ones escape their wretched womb
They shuffle towards a setting sun in
With hunger in their eyes
They're craving frozen milk and salted fries
They sniff the air with practiced care
And drag their tired feet
They're searching for a place that has the meat
The beacon sits upon the hill
Ten gallons cold and steel
They cross the gate to take their joyous meal
But inside their hope he died
No children haunt this place
No little toys for girls or boys
We scream it in your face
We are not for you
You fatted calves
No paper crowns no clowns
No laughs
No tiny straws for tiny mouths
No orphans welcome in our house
You fatted calves are banished to the south
Hunger drove the fatted calves
A bitter master's lash
Curling towards a distant mountain pass
They're sure that their salvation's in
The valley held beneath
They're dripping at the scent of roasting beef
But at the border, who awaits
A pair of burning steeds
The fatted calves are driven to their knees
Please oh please, you mighty steeds
Look down on us with favor
Lick our tears and taste the salty flavor
But the mountain mist carries the taint
Of their generation's choice
The pumping horses stamp their feet
And raise their fleshy voice
We are not for you
You fatted calves
No paper crowns no clowns
No laughs
No tiny straws for tiny mouths
No orphans welcome in our house
You fatted calves are banished to the south
The smoking pits gray their flesh
And the butchers hoist their knives
The fatted calves bow their heads
And offer up their lives
We are not for you
You fatted calves
No paper crowns no clowns
No laughs
No tiny straws for tiny mouths
No orphans welcome in our house
You fatted calves are banished to the south