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

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