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