Through the door, he's late again.
Even in the dark, you can see his drunken grin.
You close your eyes, choke back the tears-
Still, he turns on the lights, wanting to see your fear.
And you'd better not cry and wake up the kid-
But he'd beat you some more until you did.
Listening in horror, knowing there was nothing I could do.
Wait until he's gone, and wipe your tears for you.
I know he showed his love in a very bad way-
Fists became the angry voice, saying things he
should not say.
And though time has passed and bruises fade-
Scars run deep
Their ugliness you'll carry with you, each and every day.