Its a violent mind
Of a damaged heart
Its the man
Dying by the whip
Its the whimpering slave
Tired of being hurt
Its the crushed little Bud
That wants to bloom
Its the dead seed
That wants to grow
Its a violent mind
Of a damaged heart
Its the painted eye
That controls all tears
Its a measured voice
That gives none away
It's the last wine drop
That bubbles drowned pain
Its the abused child
That's scared of tomorrow
