18 hours a day 7 days a week Locked up in this godforsaken joint
Anything you say I turn the other cheek You’d be amazed what one will do at gun-point
Heal me, please heal me I need something bad, something to call my own Won’t you heal me, please heal me I need something bad, something to call my own
Had me dig a grave When men without no soul Beat my friend to death when she escaped
A new millennium slave Stuck in a hellhole A piece of property, born to be raped
Heal me, please heal me I need something bad, something to call my own Won’t you heal me, please heal me I need something bad, something to call my own
I was sold, a thousand dollars flat Mondays are slow, special leftover fee Won’t get old, I am aware of that But I’ll go free…
Heal me, please heal me I need something bad, something to call my own Won’t you heal me, please heal me I need something bad, something to call my own (To Salma)
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