History of Violence - MoriArty

Now it’s not what it seems

I just can’t start to say

It was these evil days

Of pain and fear

Something was broke

My skin hard like an oak

My mind hard like an oak

I got a history of violence

It’s not written on my face

You wouldn’t know it

It’s buried in my leather case

I got a memory of violence

It’s not written on my skin

You couldn’t see it

It’s a ripple in my grin

Like the people of my kin

And now it’s not what it seems

I just can’t start to say

It was these evil days

Of pain and fear

Something was broke

My mind hard like an oak

My skin hard like an oak

I got a history of silence

The bruises and the sins

Don’t wash away

It’s not written in my name

Like a freckle on my skin

Something that I’ve never shown

Memories from a broken home

The engine with no train

Shame like a funny game

The witness of the sin

The scratches on my skin

The moment I begin

To runaway James Dean

The shutter on the screen

The curtain on the scene

The arrow in the breast

The weight inside the chest

An erasble race

With no traceable trace

Satchel full of lies

The devil in the eye

It’s not written on my grave

It’s not written on my grave

It’s not written on my grave

You wouldn’t know it

I’m buried safe and well behaved

I got a history of evil

I got a history of evil

I got a history of evil