Meat in the shed

If we face the apocalypse,
I want you to know there's no need to worry.
I've got plenty of reserves outside,
so we won't be starving in a hurry.
 
When the bombs inevitably fall,
please don't be filled with dread.
We'll be just fine when the smoke clears,
because I've got some meat in the shed.
 
I can't tell you where it came from,
so it's best that you just don't ask.
But please be appreciative of it,
acquiring it was a bit of a task.
 
I'll bring it to you,
so there's no need to snoop around.
There's plenty enough for everyone,
I serve meat by the pound.
 
Just don't go poking around the shed,
mind your own business and don't go near.
Don't go asking where it came from either,
it's just some venison or deer.  
 
I go out hunting to feed hungry mouths,
mainly I hunt in the forest.
Just believe me if I say it's deer,
it's not human - I'm being honest?  
 
Just stop asking questions,
and eat up whilst it's hot.
Ignore the gargling from the shed,
and smell the food in the pot.  
 
Smells great doesn't it?
So there's no need to be concerned.
Tastes even better,
but never when it's burned.
 
Yes that's right,
I keep a lock on the door.
Though it's not for any sinister reason,
it's just to stop people taking more.  
 
You're beginning to annoy me,
with all these incessant questions.
Let's talk about the seasoning,
I'm open to suggestions.  
 
You might think you heard something,
Or maybe you think you saw?  
Was it a cleaver breaking bone maybe?
Or some banging on the door?
 
Don't worry about it please,
I'm just passionate about my meats.
Don't go strolling into the woods though,
or lifting up any sheets.
 
I'm a master butcher by trade,
and an adept hunter by night.
Stop looking at my shed please,
just have another bite.  
 
You might think deer can't scream,
can't shout 'someone please help me'.
But it's just a clever deer that can talk,
a mutation - it may well be.  
 
I know it's strange how people have gone missing,
but things like that happen sometimes.
It's a lawless land these days you see,
so people pay with their lives for their crimes.  
 
I was wondering if you like paprika?
Come on let's change the subject.
Just don't try adding too much salt,
it dries out the meat so it's wrecked.  
 
You can tell your girlfriend as well,
to stop poking around my shed at night.
It's a messy business carving up meats,
and I don't want her to have a fright.  
 
I know you find it strange,
that I won't let anybody else inside.
But I like doing it on my own that's all,
so let's just put this aside.  
 
Let's just pretend it's a gourmet meal,
like roast chicken or crispy ducks.
If the wind picks up later and you hear any banging,
it's just the rattling of my iron meat hooks.
 
If you're feeling in the mood,
for something to savour and preserve.
I've got a smoke-cured selection for later,
I call it the special reserve.
 
I caught him out in the woods last week,
and I've been treating this cut well.
I didn't even have to shoot this one either,
he just hit his head when he fell.
 
He was running away from me,
and tripped and bumped his head.
I thought I'd have to finish him off with my chainsaw,
but he was already dead.  
 
I know it all seems a little barbaric,
but you cannot deny that taste.
So get it eaten before prying eyes see it,
and don't let any go to waste.  
 
So after our meal concludes this evening,
when everything's been done and said.
Just remember for your own safety,
stay the fuck away from my meat shed.