Luyện nghe bài hát Violets In My Hand

This is a about a man
A short story the violence in his hand
On automatic
He used to taking shit
So no one's it
And his ego's bigger
He's scarred by his own war
Hate - he hurts the he hates
He hurts the ones he loves and care for
The reaper sleeps on his

Violence, violence in his

As a child he slept on rainy
Safe from his cloven hooves
And his mother's of fire
They figured out what it all meant
The fear of
So, rising the pyre and the smoke
soaked by the rain
To wash the pain
To loosen up the strain his mind
He keeps it inside

Violence, in his hands