He comes home reeking of whiskey and women,
She begins to scold him, and damning all men
The tempers flare and the moment gets heated
He scream back this is not how he should be treated
The tension in the room gets thick enough to cut with a knife
He clenches his fist in frustration and she begins to run for her life
Racing the towards the door, her heart beats a mile a minute
Hot on her heals; he slams the door as she tries to open it
Raising up his hand, bringing it down and striking her in the head
Crying through the house, is she going to wind up cold and dead
Stumbling to gain her balance, the bedroom door in sight
She crawls through the darkness, in search of the light
Slamming the door behind her, bolting to earn and extra few seconds
The dresser drawer opens slowly and the revolver beckons
Looking in to the vanity, the twisted bloody mess she sees
The door kicks open, a flash of light, she grabs the car keys
Is he dead? What do I do now? Am I am going to run?
As the car speeds from the drive way a new day has begun