Bathtime for Alice
Alice likes painting arms, in shades of pumping red.
It’s what her demons bid her, from deep inside her head.
Swallowed by an institution, for a child that was never born.
The shocks designed to help her forget, and leave her memories torn.
Strapped naked in the bathtub, all she can do is lay.
She’s easy pickings for the warders and the vicious games they play.
Like a missionary in a stew pot, they know not what they brew.
They ramp the voltage upwards and her thoughts become a stew.
Sin, No Sin, the evil souls come in!
