| Darkened clouds was watching over the house
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| Father sleeping mother reading
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| From the good book to their child
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| Mother’s in the rockinchair
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| By the fireplace reaching a fanatic stage
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| Preaching load and clear the words of delight
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| The child suppose to take pleasure instead
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| Felt sick and distressed
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| Glimpsed the axe, getting up from teh bed, grabs the tool get that crone
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| Unaware of he child behind the mother kept
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| Babbling while the child raised the axe
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| Struck hard, struck fast, must punish parent
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| Burst the crown in pieces, walls got
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| Draped with substance
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| Starring without a word
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| Purified from mothers nagging with full force
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| The child kept striking
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| Litter was now disposed
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| Kissed the rest of her cheek
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| Dropped the axe and tore her bible
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| Feeling fine…
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| The child left the scene ran of into the woods to
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| Vanish while the daybreak kept coming
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| Father awoke as someone
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| Knocked on their door
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| Shocked by the sight
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| Outside stood the mob
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| That would lead
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| His persecution
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| Couldn’t speak after what he had seen
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| Labeled insane and locked up in a dark asylum
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| The Diary…
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| Travelled east the child found warmth and shelter
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| Located its relative uncle Damfee
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| The child opened up and told its uncle its secret
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| Damfee said, with a nervous trembling voice
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| «He's been exposed the father of mine»
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| «I thought he was dead but obviously not, his spirit awoke» |