Raised in the valley, there was shadows and death.
Got out alive but with scars he can't forget.
This kid back in school, subdued and shy.
a brother and unseen by most eyes.
I don't know what it was that made a piece of him die,
Took a boy to the forest, slaughtered him with a scythe.
Stamped on his face, an impression in the dirt.
Do you think the silence makes a good man convert?
We all have our horrors and our demons to fight.
But how could he win, when he's paralyzed?
They crawled up on his bed, wrapped their fingers round his throat.
Is this what he got for the choices that he made?