Apathy - Victim f. Holly Brook | Текст песни

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• Apathy
• Victim f. Holly Brook

A young girl travelling late at night could pay the price, taped up and sliced
In the Nevada desert God ain’t present, pray for your life
That’s what he told her as the seatbelt clicked and the car peeled out
She’s creeped out but they’re moving too fast to leap out
He peeped out her hitching on the side of the highway
He pulled over, “Hey, looks like you’re going my way.”
A pretty young thing, probably in her early twenties
He was closer to fifty playing some song by Eddie Money
Told her, “Relax, this ain’t the first time I’ve done this.
I’ll just make it hurt more if you try to run, bitch .”
The radio was silent, almost seemed unbelievable
You could hear the rocks from the road spray under the vehicle
And he never would’ve guessed, how could he have guessed?
He felt a sharp pain as the knife entered his chest
He slammed on the brakes, looked up at her face
She seemed turned on with blood all over the place
She straddled on his lap, pulled the knife back
The flood of warm blood then his body relaxed
Cause when a killer kills a killer and reality’s disrupted
The victim’s not a victim and the hunter is the hunted

[Chorus]
Did you ever know me? I don’t think so
Will you ever know me? I don’t think so
But I love what you make me do
I love what you make me do
I love what you make me do

Did you ever know me? I don’t think so
Will you ever know me? I don’t think so
But I love what you make me do
I love what you make me do
I love what you make me do

Joey was a step-brother, real sick little fucker
Snuck inside her room to touch her, “Kill you if you tell your mother.”
Held her underneath the covers
Covered up her mouth to smother any noise
Even let his boys come and fuck her
And little devil boys taking turns
You can almost hear the flames flicker as their souls burn
And he did it to conquer, told her no one wants her
Had no idea he was creating a monster
Tears mixed with blood mixed with sweat mixed with semen
Is a list of ingredients to grow your own demon
Then late one night out the window she crept
And burned down the house while everybody slept
Then years passed by and the body count rised
But no one suspects the girl with them real pretty eyes
Till on a lonely stretch of highway in the desert
You can hear her singing like an old record

[Chorus]

This is dedicated to those tormented souls.

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