It's closed, the door
All my muscles very sore
A different cell, different day
A chair to cause my pain in ways
Strapped in, light above my head
Now I wish I was dead
In 36 hours I haven't been feed
I am leaving nothing unsaid
The chair folds down, parallel to the floor
Two men pile in and say: water-board
A rag is put on my face
As they put the jug into place
I jolt in my chair
All of its standing up, my hair
Remember we told you life isn't fair
And the two men don't seem to care
You would think 17 times is enough
Now it seems I'm all out of luck
Reach for the scalpel but I'm not knocked-out
No! Please don't do this I shout and I pout
