Dead.

Part IV

iv

Nothing comes out when he wants to cry
Not a sound is made to waken the night
Choking on tears under the sheets
Broken and bruised from what no one can see

Cool steel rusting on the surface
Water splashing into the sink
Swirling purity into a seeping red
It'll disappear before you blink

A bottle of whiskey under his bed
Calling his name, it'll drag him there
Pouring sand into his head
He laughs as if it's funny that his mind is turning blurry

He keeps his lips closed, pressed together tight
Secrets won't spill if he does this right
But what will happen when his son is pushed over the edge?
Daddy's drinking himself to a throne in hell

She stays quiet, but knows all that goes on
Watching what takes place right up until dawn
She wouldn't dare tell on him
Her motherly love is growing thin

He feels like he's dying,
He feels like he's dead.