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Hiding under clovers not to hear a sound
What is next again, the bills, our spills,
Oh those walls where thin, hearing whispers, and slaps
As children try to find delight
In the hell of their parents suffering, the twisted game of life
As we start off born blinded only for world to give us scares
Proclaiming not knowing any better, only human,
Instinctive in which they say it is only for our better
Oh how thin, those walls where
As motherís daughter would only hear the fights,
Was our family, our world, were they ever happy?
Sing me a lullaby, sing myself to sleep only,
Keep quiet for you are too week, to small,
An Angle has fallen, a child born into this mess
Dear Mama I pray today for Tatya not to hit you
Oh those walls where thin dear mama,
How we only heard all the whispers, the cries, and words
And this crib so small, only a dream, and a different room
Memories to as why I grew so unstable