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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

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