When you are first against the wall,
There is little time to think,
Blinded, afraid, then executed.

You labor your chest to rise and fall,
Your stomach, your bowls both sink,
When you are first against the wall.

The mind is pushed to the brink,
Belabored, oppressed, and persecuted,
There is little time to think,

To realize it is yourself you’ve prosecuted,
The genuine self, innocent, now polluted,
Blinded, afraid, then executed.