"Prescott County Jail"

The racists slapped his ass,
with lotion,
sandals slapped one by one,
they all had their fun.
He said it's my dream to go to prison.
As they abused him why?
I haven't a reason that has risen,
in his ass cheeks,
I still hear his screams.
It's not fun,
point of a gun,
at your face.
In the fleeting memory,
of you to see the fields that be,
of the nuts that slammed,
against the wall,
of a power trip,
horror of a trace,
of the feelings replaced,
of which fell,
upon the Prescott County Jail.