So cold, the steel rod cancelling my heart.
Don't know whether they're going to fire it or shove it through my spinning brain.
Six of them, monstrous doctors with black masks shoving bottles up me too.
There were sticks, and the end of a broom.
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| Bosnia | ||||||||
| Not since the soldiers put a long thick rifle inside me. So cold, the steel rod cancelling my heart. Don't know whether they're going to fire it or shove it through my spinning brain. Six of them, monstrous doctors with black masks shoving bottles up me too. There were sticks, and the end of a broom. |
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| Bosnia | ||||||||
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