‘slave to me’ that’s what he’d mutter, Like a was some dirt he’d found crawling through the gutter. He’d whip me with his belt and beat me with his shoe, He’d tie me up and punch me, Until I was black and blue. He’d wait until the children slept And creep up beside me in our bed, Then wrap his fingers around my hair and leave me wishing I was dead. He’d have his wicked way with me As I sobbed begging ‘please no more’ And when the neighbours asked I’d always walked into a door. Frightened to leave him yet, Frightened to stay, Wondering every time I woke, If I’d live to see another day. Friday nights were always worse, I’d shiver hearing him stumble up the path, And as the blood ran down my legs, He’d breakout with a chilling laugh. So one Saturday morning the kids Were playing in the street, I tied a rope around my neck And climbed on to the seat. He lay there sleeping as I used the rope And attached it to the ceiling. And as I kicked the chair from below me I lost of sense of feeling. There I was hanging, dead, No more living in fear. No more taking beatings from him Year after year. Now each night I haunt him I make him relive my pain, I seek my revenge from beyond the grave I’m driving him insane.