Oh my god.
Let him speak.

No he's not abusive,
Just ultra violent with his eyes.
You’re so fucking intrusive,
He's north river baptized, and he just needs…

The sound of bullets,
And the ache behind your eyes,
When you claw beneath,
With such urgency,
It breathes fire to his life.

It's his sickness, that's spoiled the sheets.
Gold flaked covered faces, blood and rain in the streets.

Grandfather,
What have you done?
Where is your son?
Oh my God,
There's blood in her hair…

He's no man,
No father!
I know who lives behind those eyes.
He's murderous…

I'll show you violence.

And the grit under nail,
From your fatherhood fail.
May she rest by the river,
In young cold water quiver.