23 September 2012
This place drips, With liquid grey, They torture kids here, To this day.
The groans and the silence, Is all you need to hear, Because if your a small, childlike kid, You'll tremble in sheer fear.
This place is run by adults, They enjoy every day, Once you're here your trapped, You're going to have to stay.
They hypnotise you using, An old, battered board, In the newer places they're electric, Connected by a cord.
This wicked place is evil, A place where adults rule, The place is sadly here to stay, This place, is my school!
The Torture House • Opuss № I