No, don't tell me how he Hit you Kicked you Pushed you Dragged you Spat on you.. I don't want to hear it. Don't sit here and dump it all out on me. But, ask yourself If this is how you want your life to be? Don't show me the hidden bruises Telling me how you're hurting and sore 'Bout how you've lied about walking into An open kitchen cabinet door... And hiding blackened eyes Under the thick make-up you wore Cuz you and I both know You're going RIGHT back for some more And, no I'm not going to tell you to leave him. You've heard all that a thousand times before So, all I can advise Is that you, at least, get a Life Insurance policy And to keep it current. You need to pay that before you pay your LIGHT BILL. Cuz then, your family'll have enough to bury you And your children'll have something left over in lieu of a will. And, in the mean-time, I'll just pray That you haven't irrevocably Damaged their young minds Into believin' what they're seein' Is the ONLY kind of "love that binds." I'll pray that your son doesn't grow up to emulate Anger and violence and "a woman aint sh+t" hate... I'll pray that he doesn't later repeat this horror on his own chosen mate And, I'll pray that your daughter doesn't grow up to think That being disrespected and beat is her own set fate. Yes, I'll pray that, for them, it isn't too late. But, to you, all I can say is to, at least, secure something And maybe your death'll reap more than your living could bring For those who'll remain When you greet the "hereafta' Cuz it look like you gone stay with 'im 'Til he kills ya'.