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Back home again and once again the anguish.
After a tough day, you find him lying there,
Drool running down his pig-like face,
Vomit sliding down his chest.
Look at him, he doesn't deserve you!
You know what needs to be done.
You hold onto hope that the situation
Will change, that it will soon be fixed.
He has enslaved you, and while he's lying down
You have to carry the weight of the household.
Look at him, he doesn't deserve you!
You know what needs to be done.
How many lies do you need?
How many hits? How many wounds?
You blame yourself for everything,
It's what he makes you believe.
You're sinking into the mud
And can hardly see anymore.
You find yourself cornered
By the man of your life,
You find yourself cornered
By the man of your death.
You blame yourself even
For the punches he gives you,
Which are getting stronger each time,
And this will only escalate.
The manure fields are dressed in disillusionment,
False passions, bastard loves.
Frustrated loves, of fruits bitten by predators.
The manure fields, the disillusionment.