Venerea - Violets In My Hand lyrics

This is a story about a man A short story about the violence in his hand On automatic trigger He ain't used to taking sh** So no one's giving it And his ego's getting bigger He's scarred by his own civil war Hate - he hurts the ones he hates He hurts the ones he loves and don't care for The reaper sleeps on his floor Violence, violence in his hand As a child he slept on rainy roofs Safe from his father's cloven hooves And his mother's eyes of fire They never figured out what it all meant The fear of descent So, rising from the pyre and the smoke Redeemingly soaked by the rain To wash away the pain To loosen up the strain upon his mind He still keeps it inside Violence, violence in his hands