Late at night you open the door
Your old man's drunk and madder then hell
Another violent conflict, you never asked for this
The place that you call home is now a cell
He's punching out your mother, and now he turns on you
This always seems to happen every night
You're heading for the kitchen, you grab a butcher knife
This time you know you're gonna have to fight
You warn him that you've had enough
This time he's gonna get what he deserves
He charges. you knife him
You wasted him before you lost your nerve

Send "Parricide" Ringtone to your Cell