Bare
brick walls all cold and damp
With freezing stony floor
A tiny closet wet and foul
The lighting system poor |
Shaky beds of nails and plank
No mattress can be seen
A draughty roof of timber logs
The dripping rafters green |
A smoky stove burns twice a day
The atmosphere is dead
One table is the furniture
Reprisal it is said |
Some window panes are missing
the door wont fit the frame
Two heaters never operate
For coal is just a name |
Fifteen feet by twenty
Is the length of our prison hut
Eighty men packed sardine tight
With every window shut |