The King Is Dead - Thränenkind

I need to get out of this house

This whole city is haunting me

I cannot breathe within walls like these

Making me the weakling I am

What I remember is rain, always rain;

Always grey clouds in the morning sky

And this old shitty record player

Repeating the only record we had

You can’t imagine how loud we had to turn it

To drown out the father’s yelling;

Not to hear the mother’s weeping;

To be safe from the noise

A home, which was never our home

A king, who yelled and hurt and drank

A queen, who loved and wept and fell

Children, who cried and dreamed and sank

Your blood circling in my black veins

I am your flesh, you are my chain

I am the fruit of your sear tree

Just left to rot, never set free