Luyện nghe bài hát Violets In My Hand

This is a about a man
A short about the violence in his hand
On trigger
He ain't used to shit
So no one's it
And his getting bigger
He's by his own civil war
Hate - he hurts the he hates
He hurts the ones he loves and don't for
The reaper on his floor

Violence, violence in his

As a child he on rainy roofs
Safe from his father's cloven
And his mother's eyes of
never figured out what it all meant
The fear of
So, rising from the and the smoke
Redeemingly by the rain
To wash the pain
To loosen up the strain his mind
He still keeps it

Violence, in his hands