The Bishop and the Butterfly: Murder, Politics, and the End of the Jazz Age
    Richard Day's picture

    THE BAPTISM

    Interrogators sought only facts

    They played by the rules

    And then the facts don't match the plan

    That was hatched by fools

    Who had pled for the mighty war

    Which had been planned for years before

    For purposes unknown

    Behind locked and secret doors

    And though they hoped for something to find
    They could see no place through the mind

    Interrogators your suspect lies

    Upon your torture bench

    You have been given orders to

    Ask questions while you drench

    Him with holy waters of war

    And baptize this stubborn race

    Into ideal submission

    As it is washed across his face

     

    And though they hoped for something to find
    They could see no place through the mind
    And though they hoped for something to find
    They could see no place through the mind

    Interrogators the truth will out

    You will lose all respect

    Although I came to jeer at you

    I leave now with regrets

    You claim you wished to protect

    This nation to the end

    And though with aims and goals held high

    Your moral values did decend

     

    And though they hoped for something to find
    They could see no place through the mind
    And though they hoped for something to find
    They could see no place through the mind

     

     

    And though they hoped for something to find
    They could see no place through the mind

     

    Hats off to Procul Harum