Confession Angle

I sat on the confession chair

My soul is in deep sorrow

And around me are four wolves

And the fifth of them sits in front of me for investigation

They look at me with harsh, frightening looks

They record my statements with terrible pressure

The investigator shouts at me you did this

So I say no and my soul is tense

And tears fill my eyes

How could I not, when I am a little child

I am in the investigation room?