Her home is a prison

The break of dawn brings renewed hope

Oh !this day will be the last… today the die will be cast

What will be the reward…? The hand of God or the devil’s fork

For her home is a prison

No more she reasons

Many-a-night praying the children wouldn’t listen

But a locked door is a wall to those who have no key

Many-a-night her voice sweet and clear as a banshee's

Shattering the illusion of the perfect picture on the night stand

Gorged and gagged as the prisoner she so claims

Now she hopes to do more harm than maim

For death is a wife to a man whose heart is in chains