At the end of the day, the fires are burning bright
Smoke forms and rises, signals beginning of night
Stripping these prisoners down, to form a line
Piling the ones who have died, in front of their eyes
Crammed in the the warehouse to shower, the switch is pulled
Gas fills the room, the corpses are now to be moved
A DAY AT CAMP
Laugh as they cry, their innocent screams satisfy
Arriving in thousands, none of them know that they'll die
Brag about killing, in front of the laboring boy
His body is silent, his mind is a traumatized void
A DAY AT CAMP