Tom Violence

My violence is a dream, a 'real dream' A skinny arm, a crush on living sin My violence is a sleeping head, nodding out to rising bliss I left home for experience, carved 'suk for honesty' on my chest My violence is the number coming out of prayer Find it in the father, find it in a girl There's a thing in my memory holding on for dear life With a feeling of secrets beating up under my flesh My tongue is tied, I'm sleeping nights awake