This is a memory. We all have them. You deal with yours your way. This is my way.
I laid down to sleep
And turned out the light
I felt so uneasy
Because of the fight
I could tell there was drinking
My future's foretold
I would be invaded
I am a six year old
I was holding my breath
My eyes were closed tight
Hoping he'd forget
About me for one night
The creak of the door
Was the start of the end
I'd have to feign sleep
I would have to pretend
His breath smelled of whiskey
His fingers were cold
When he slid down the pants
Of a six year old
He started to do things
Maybe I was to blame
When my body reacted
I can still feel the shame
I can't get the nightmares
To go out of my head
Maybe he's still coming
Even though he is dead
I hope this will help me
Now that this has been told
But I won't ever forget
When I was six years old
