He looks down at his hands,
now stained red.
"No!" he screamed,
"she can't be dead!"

His head is spinning,
his mind a mess.
He looks at the body
in the blood stained dress.

He gets angry,
and fills with pain,
when he sees the carpet
with the crimson-red stain.

In his rage,
he picks up a vase.
He throws it at a wall.
Glass shatters all over the place.

He can't think right.
He needs to get away.
He needs to forget
this horrible day.

He drinks to try to get the image
out of his head.
The image of his daughter
lying on the floor, dead.

He sees her glazed eyes
staring at the floor.
He sees the blood spatters
on the front door.

He sees her pretty dress,
the once beautiful white,
drenched in red
because of that night.

He hears her scream,
"Daddy, please! Stop!"
He remembers the way he knew
he was going over the top.

He gets home
and opens the door.
The pain hurts him
so much more.

Her body is cold,
her skin is pale.
Her body looked so fragile,
so breakable, so frail.

He falls to his knees
and begins to cry.
It was his anger
that made his daughter die.

He looks at his princess,
the fear still on her face.
He had to hide her
and leave no trace.

He closes his eyes,
and hears her voice.
"Daddy, I'm so sorry!
I didn't have a choice!"

He remembers the pain
he saw in her eyes.
He hears her screams,
he hears her cries.

"No more, daddy!
I didn't mean to!
I love you daddy,
I would never hurt you!"

He gets off the floor,
and goes outside.
The corpse of his daughter
he must hide.

He gets a shovel
and digs a hole.
He hurt all the way
to the depths of his soul.

The hole finished,
he goes inside.
He rolls up the carpet
where her body resides.

He drags the roll
out the door.
The last words she heard were
"You're such a fucking whore."

He drops her body
and covers it with dirt.
He buried her body,
but not the hurt.

He cleans the blood
off the walls,
the blood of his daughter,
as he screams and bawls.

He overreacted.
It wasn't her fault!
Now she's buried
in a dirt filled vault.

"You're pregnant?!
You little slut!
You're not my daughter,
you're a sick mutt!"

"Daddy, I was raped!
Please don't be mad!
It's a baby girl, daddy!
You should be glad!"

He remembers how he hit her,
threw her to the ground.
He got the crowbar
without a sound.

He remembers how he hit her
over and over in the head.
And now not only his daughter,
but his grand-baby are dead.

(it wasnt her fault
its my fault shes dead
oh god my baby
oh god why my baby?

shes gone
oh god my baby is gone)