I Am the Way, The Truth, The Light

Merciful angel with blood on his hands. He's down on his

knees, because there's nowhere to stand in a dungeon of

plastic.. a castle of ice. Ankles tied with elastic, the

blindfold is tight. The windows are shattered, there's

bolts on the door, and the music's so loud, he can't

think anymore. Floodlights are blazing, they shout when

he sleeps. But he prays because he loves them - they

treat him like this!