Torture - Weekend Nachos

I was forced to confess a guilt

That I have never committed

Thirty minutes of fear

My executioner is here

Every time he starts again

And he tries to know the truth

Torture time to save the soul

There’s no blood to give the words

Many times you’ve heard the screams

Innocents haven’t left the signs

Flat-nose pliers incandescent

To tear the flesh without blood

The wheel begins to stretch

The water in my throat

Every time he starts again

I feel the pain across my body