Hell Bent Fury

Hell bent fury, knuckles blast angry ridden scowl of grunt and blazing eye

The man, gorilla face shotgun angst, cruddy teeth and wicked lip

Growled the words that crushed hope and drew pain before even the belt could lash

We call him, father never, we call him by his first name though sneers are drawn

And we are the wicked children, we are the due lost, we are the gone of faith

And the man whiskey, the man blasphemy, the man rage and ugly and cruel

No one

The bruises scream at lowered eyes and fall down the stairs glares of falsity

And god doesn’t hear us on our knees in the corner

And the dishes are clean and mother says not a word

The age will change, we will beg for mercy deep within

We will rise away, we will rise to other vistas

With the oh so counted moments buried in


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