A Minute Later

And you wish you had not been there,
But there is nothing you can do,
For the things which you have seen there,
And the way that they've touched you.

For you cannot sleep at night,
But you cry and moan all day,
For the things which shy from light,
And they way they're made to pay.

Kill the children,
Of the monsters,
From the cages,
Way out West.

It's the slaughter,
Of the monsters,
In their cages,
I like best.