This is a mindless hell for me
Accused of a crime not committed you see
Still I will see inside the machine
With wide open eyes as if picks my bones clean

The commandant will stand on his box
As the officer of the machine with his keys he unlocks

The blood that is splattered inside the machine
That is one place that will never be clean

You can't wash away the screems of the men
Who have seen the inside again and again

Here on this dry dusty I'sle
The   Commandant is the only one you see smile
And after you are imprisoned here you realize after a while
He in joy's being cruel his sadistic style

They will not detail the crime you allegedly committed
There will be no cap the machine does not have to be fitted

You see it can handle yes one and all
The short and the meek the big and the small
Once you go in no one ever wins
Tattooed with a commandment by razor sharp pins

This is the Commandants  Singular invention
He wants to keep it full that is his intention
Today he has prepared a special parade
There are no trees there is no shade

Marching into oblivion they are not waylaid
They March in to the machine death to all no order is stayed

And the sick commandant
What does he say
Well now officer
This is been a productive day...

                          M.H.