• Imange you had
    Just became a farther
    A mother
    To a
    New born
    Who you loved
    More than the sun

    Next seconed
    It's wenched from your hands
    Thrown under a net
    Left to drown
    Blood streams out
    From the dead corpse
    It's okay through

    It's because pepole love it
    It's because of money
    But you think it's wrong
    But you do it all the time
    Lot's of pepole do it
    A son in anothers eyes
    And the ocean knows
    Directly of your crime