Dropped into this world from the beak of a stork.
No option to choose our home.
Those timid little eyes tell that she was caught by the hands of someone wrong.
Cause she should be in the arms that would keep her warm, not the ones that would bruise her skin.
Cause she should be in the arms that would let her sore, not the ones that would break her wings.
So shame on a father who raises a hand.
In grace of a daughter; disgrace of a man.
A bruise disappears, but the memory will last.
So shame on a father who raises a hand.
Little mind in a house where fear is the hold.
Lines an unfair lottery.
The hell behind the scenes when the curtains close, is her reality.
And what could be so broken in a soul of a man?
Mistreated hearts break free.
Living by the guidance of the ghosts from the past.
Pain is what you breed.
So shame on a father who raises a hand.
In grace of a daughter; Disgrace of a man.
A bruise disappears, but the memory will last.
So shame on a father who raises a hand.
So shame on a father who raises a hand.
In grace of a daughter; Disgrace of a man.
A bruise disappears, but the memory will last.
So shame on a father who raises a hand.
So shame on a father who raises a hand.
In grace of a daughter; Disgrace of a man.
A bruise disappears, but the memory will last.
So shame on a father who raises a hand.
So shame on a father who raises a hand.
In grace of a daughter; Disgrace of a man.
A bruise disappears, but the memory will last.
So shame on a father who raises a hand.
