Luyện nghe bài hát Violets In My Hand

This is a story a man
A story about the violence in his hand
On automatic
He used to taking shit
So no giving it
And his ego's bigger
He's scarred by his own war
- he hurts the ones he hates
He the ones he loves and don't care for
The reaper on his floor

Violence, in his hand

As a child he on rainy roofs
Safe from his father's hooves
And his mother's of fire
They never out what it all meant
The fear of
So, from the pyre and the smoke
Redeemingly by the rain
To wash the pain
To loosen up the strain upon his
He keeps it inside

Violence, violence in his