Don’t let him hit me Mum, the boy cried
His shoes all scuffed and worn
I’ll stay in, I’ll stay inside
I wish I’d never been born

With that he stormed in through the door
And roughly removed his belt
The smell of beer, the yell, the roar
The power, the impending welt

The boys mother cowered and wept
For she knew that was for the best
Then rushed to a drawer where a knife was kept
And stabbed him in the chest

She stabbed him hard about ten times
Until he lie there dead
She started singing nursery rhymes
As the boy rushed to his bed

She didn’t know what she had done
As police arrived the next day
She only tried to protect her son
And now she’ll go away

The boy stood lonely at the grave
With his Father’s belt in hand
He only ever tried to behave
What had happened he couldn’t understand?

One year later he stood outside
A prison, cold and grim
A surge of electricity and his mother died
Executed for protecting him.