There he stands, framed in the doorway

In his hand the black leather strip sway'

Oh how it sway,' and the mother cower away.

Cover the child, hide him from sight

Of eyes hazy with whiskey-demon light.

Cover the screams, the sobs, the cries,

Else this may be the day the son dies.

The master stands rageful at the soun'

And the black belt come hard down.

Oh, it come down, hard on her back

And it make a fearful crack.

She hold her tear close, and bear the pain

For she protects her son from a man insane.

As he tires, he turn away

And behind him, the wife sway.

She comfort the son, 

Tell him it will be okay.

In the morn she go and buy a gun.

As she go the eyes turn away

Her arms, her legs, her face, her hands

Their paint is a shame to civilized lands

And the son, cast on his arm, gash on his face,

The son, he is also a disgrace.

The store owner, he flinch at the stain

And the customer, he do the same,

As she walk out with a shotgun

Trailing her blue and black son.

 

She sit in the kitchen, she sit an she wait

For the man she loved, so filled with hate.

He open the door, bottle in hand

And on black steel, his eyes land.

His anger like fire, his anger like ice,

He takes a step, and pays the price.

She turn an she walk, her eyes a glaze

Sits on the porch and stares in a daze.

She sit an she wait, for screaming blue an red.