another dia fampton song (actually meg and dia). the meaning of this song is actually based on a story written by them and its kinda long. but here it goes : The couch. Always behind the couch. Under the table. The closet under the stairs. Three places to run. Three places to hide. Everytime their voices would rise i would run to the closest sanctuary and thank God i was small enough to fit. Those voices that ran across each corner of the room seemed to reverberate off my very skin. Dad. He told me to call him Sir. Never Dad. Mom. She told me to call her Hannah. She was so pretty when she slept. She was so pretty when she was happy. Now, her body of twenty years was old. Tired from no sleep, breaking from fingertips pressed into her sides, and boiling with too hard of liquor for her fragile, porcelain outline. After every uproar, every tear by her, and every empty bottle by himthey would come looking. Her, happy to see him turn his malice towards me. Him, happy to turn his m! alice away from himself. I was the six year old pathetic coward. Sir, I would say. My eyes would wander to Hannah with frightened curiosity. What had I done? I called him sir. I called her Hannah. They called me Henry at school. They called me Henry at church. They called me Monster at home. After black, they would confine me to my room. A tiny room with one window, where their words said minutes earlier would form long sentences and wrap around in a circle above my head like those music boxes loving ...
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