domingo, 24 de julho de 2011

Scars

There was a point, in the past
Where everything started
Everything changed from bad
To worse

He was just a little boy
And his parents, his father...
The little boy was hit and abused
And told he's shit

"Why, Papa?
Why would you do that?
Why me?
Don't you love me?"

Poor boy, poor little boy...
He didn't understand
(How could he?)
The Devil himself was
Controlling his father...

There was a time
When the little boy understood
What was hidden inside
That Cruel Body

"Where's Mom?
I think I can hear her...
Why are you crying, Mom?
Did you like Papa?"

Everything got bloody...
But who could blame
The little boy?
He's was just a child...
Was he?

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