Castrate the Thief
The prison was full of drifters
Lousy two-bit grifters
Not a man in that crowd
Violent enough to waylay a fly
But destined to watch themselves die
The bulls came in swinging
With alarm sirens ringing
The prisoners ran back to their cells
In this fiery hell
Born with only enough hands to cover their eyes
There's no reason at all
They said to each other
To die at the hands
Of our unsane brothers
So they locked their arms
And they charged to the front of the lines
But they were not made
Of the same blackened mettle
That fueled their captors
And left them unsettled
So they fell in their ranks, their strength in numbers outweighed by the bulls and their organized ire
I tell you no lies
Destiny favors the blind
A slap on the wrist
Or a kiss on the cheek
Would you pluck out your eyes
To make sense of it all
Set free the rapist
Castrate the thief
Writer/s: Joseph R. Jakovac, Frederick T. Crounse
