[Sight]

Not a bottle, a devil spawn, that is what i see//
I see not daring to disagree for the fear of being beat//
I see him not listening to the pleas and crippling with his knee//
And taking a stick to my face until my nose would bleed//
Laughing as I would cry and beg for mercy at his feet//
I see the after affects of liquor, my living room in debris//

[Sound]
I lay in bed at night and listen to my mother beg//
For him not to be mad that she had forgo to buy bread//
He would not let it go, she should have thought ahead//
"I make the money, you should do you part" he said//
I Hear my mothers screams as he raised to bat above his head//
And brought it down on her skull, my mom falling to the ground dead//

[Taste]
I taste the blood from the blows landed by my dad//
Taking out his anger on me for the things he never had//
Finding his happiness in liquor, always drinking to be glad//
But it always went to other way and went to bed mad//
The constant beating for reasons untold besides "being bad"//
I taste the anger at seeing my father coming in flanel clad//

[Touch]
I feel the belt hit me with a crack and it bite into my skin//
I feel the feel on my naked back of his flanel soaked in gin//
I feel the anger of my adulterous father but accusing me of the sin//
I feel the anger deep inside me start to brew within//
I feel the fire he held me over scald my flesh like Satan's Twin//
I feel the anger, rage and hate start to deep inside begin//

Smell
I smell the booze of the nights drinking wafting from his clothes//
The smell of blood from the table and the belt as he reaches new lows//
I smell the peroxide from my mother so the markings will never show//
The cheap perfume of my mother turning tricks, living a life she never chose//
The fresh cast of the doctor and he sets the new cast upon her swollen nose//
I smell the blood of my father on my hands, now underground, never to be exposed//





input would be nice....thanks a lot