Hear the clock ticking closer to your doom,

Closer and closer, the time He enters the room.

Feel the cold sweat drip from your palm,

As at any moment you're at risk of harm,

See the shadow under the door,

Your heart starts racing more and more,

Listen to the footsteps approaching louder,

As you await the fearful wrath of thunder,

Smell the booze that bears in His breath,

As He raises his hand, the hand of death,

Receive the blow that slams you down,

You hear your head crack as it smashes the ground,

Taste the blood oozing from your lip,

And gasp as a pain penetrates your hip,

Prepare for another kick or another punch,

As you stare at the mess you had for lunch,

Shake with fear at a glance from the look in his eye,

When you know the only escape is if you die,

Surely it's not right to live in fear,

But no one's listening, no one can hear.