he was on the floor, her face was in her mother's arms.
She had said that she'd been out late with the boys.
Just another evening, like every other evening
Everything is all the same it seems.
Danny always called her on the phone for no special reason,
apparently,
He could never tell her what it was, he suffered silently,
quitely.
Just another evening, but his hands just couldn't be still,
He can't control it and he cannot tell her why,
Feel the beaded knuckles, feel the snap inside,
See the rush of terror in her eye,
She can't feel it
She can't feel it
She can't feel anything anymore