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To Memory of Torture

Surgical Dissection

Their bodies are covered with scars
Their eyes are full of sorrow
They are victims of own parents
Your children - witnesses of suffering

Only a hit and you do what i say
I´am your father you must obey
Hot iron will do its work
I beat you down to floor

A boy grows up and takes the knife
He visits his father and
With an idea of revenge
Begins to cut his throat