When his face grows dark,
And his eyes grow cold,
When his jaw gets tight,
And his ego gets bold,
I watch his moves close,
And prepare for him to strike,
Because when he gets tipsy,
He swear he like Mike,
If you look at my smile,
You'll think up a song,
And if you look in my eyes,
You'll see nothing wrong,
But if you lift up my shirt,
You'll see my bruises,
That is unless,
I've told you duces,
At times he hates me,
And it makes me so sad,
Because I can't figure out,
How I made him so mad, ...
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