She walks home cautiously, peering down the street

The man in this darkness she does not want to meet

But still, he closely follows

Locking the door, she feels strangely hollow

 

Night after night, her fears come alive

Memories of those disgusting men from which they derive

The melody of screaming rings in her ears

He reaches a hand out to wipe away her tears

 

She stands up and turns away

But as always, he will stay

He has never left her, and never will

Suddenly, she notices him and falls still

 

Pacing in the house through her darkest room

The nightmares, the horrors, bury her in gloom

Gently, he holds her in his arms

Never, this time, will he let her be harmed

 

Her breathing slowed, she touches his face

And accepts his love in a warm embrace

Her body grows cold, her eyes have no life

Softly grazing her chest, pulls out the knife

 

He carries her with ease, wrapped in his coat

A smile on his face, a lump in his throat

Her suffering is over, her terrors no more

No man in his world will call her a whore

 

Escaping the house, greeting the stars

Past houses, roads, and empty cars

So into the night, he disappears

Oh, how could he cry, after all these years?

                         . . .

Oh, how could he cry, after all these years?