at Babraham
(or any other
ANIMAL
RESEARCH
Let’s conjure up a killer germ
then try to find the antidote
guinea-pigs deserve to squirm
we’ll take the udders from a goat
and transplant them to its throat
excuse me while I go and gloat
there’s nothing like an experiment
to rouse a bit of merriment
especially when you’re getting close
to establishing the lethal dose
there’s no room for namby-pamby
cute-as-Bambi sentiment
at Babraham
animals are ours to use
but we don’t let the bleeders choose
we need to test these new cosmetics
why waste good money on anaesthetics
of course we try to be humane
our torture causes little pain
well-placed electrodes in the brain
can stimulate a sense of pleasure
brute suffering is hard to measure
against the data we can gain
so leave all pity at the door
and never ever ask what for
if those brilliant mistaken men
cross a camel with a hen
someone thought it was a good idea
anything goes when you’re working here
(like mouse
with
grafted
human ear?)
countless victims die in fear
on bio-technology’s wild frontier
talk of research is just a sham
for sadists pulping flesh to jam
slaughtering sacrificial lamb
with a toxic milligram
O let’s irradiate a clam
et cetera ad nauseam
comparing them with Frankenstein
you’d think the latter was benign
they act more cruel than Abraham
the kind of man who’d kill his son
and not regret what he had done
GODDAMN GODDAMN GODDAMN GODDAMN
the things they do behind closed doors
at Babraham
