Drip drip drip.
CRACKLE, THUNDER, POP!
I ran out the door screaming in tears
It was only my dad beating my mom again.
As she lay there in red pools.
I played Arthur and pulled out the knife with all my might.
I was a child you see,
Blood on the ceiling,
Blood on my feet,
Blood all over it was a gore.
It was a murder scene.
Ring ring ring,
Who could that be.
Steve ran!
The cops came and there I sat driving myself insane.
I took the blame.
Day in day out the cellar was cold.
The small crack of sunlight was deceiving me so.
Steve was never to be seen as I little Freddy sat here in this cold cold, dark box of empty.
No one believed
No one seen
I was stuck
I was mad
There I sat contemplating ways to rid my sad.
Rip Rip Rip
I tired some knots
There I went
After that,
Little Freddy hanged.