You look in the mirror You’re all skin and bone You’re gonna die soon I thought I should phone
Your stomach is bulging And cannot take food I think that their methods are A little crude
They’ve severed Most of your limbs Your brain and eyesight Are going dim
Well they’ve strangled you ‘Til your face went blue I think that their methods are A little crude
They cut off your ears Pulled your nails out You’ve answered all their questions But they can still doubt
Well all your senses They did denude I think that their methods are A little crude
Well they’ve shit in your shit in your Shir in your face Then dumped your body Without a trace
Lacerated and in the nude I think that their methods are frankly A little crude crude crude crude Crude crude crude crude Crude crude crude crude Crude crude crude crude Crude
Then when I asked your tormentors Wasn’t it odd They said no We’re just doing our job