A drunken rage

Drunken rage…



The first warning would be absence

The clock would tick on by

Oh gosh he isn’t home yet

We begin to cry



Butterflies in our tummies

At every car that passes

The later it gets and he’s not home

Means we’re definitely going to see our asses!



It’s Friday night, the weekend

His drinking has begun

We must be ready for his arrival

We must be ready to run



At times he doesn’t bother

To come home at all ‘til Monday

But still we were all ready

Be that as it may



When he has been drinking

We’d get our first warning

As he’d drive straight into the garage door

In the early hours of the morning



On quite a few occasions,

He didn’t stop just there…

He’d reverse and repeat over and over

To give us a SOLID scare!



All this before attempting

To put his key in the door

We knew ALL his movements

We’d seen them many times before.



By now we are in the room

Door secured with stuff

We can hear him in the kitchen

Swearing to himself in a huff



There the first thing smashes…

That will be the plate of food against the wall

The smashing’s coming closer

It’s almost time to call…

He’s at the bedroom door now

He’s trying on the handle…

“Open up you fucking bitch”

We’re in shock, children are supposed to be dandled



Instead my mother whispers to me

To stand against the door

Whilst she moves some more furniture

Across the carpeted floor



Suddenly there is silence

From outside of our room

I stand there with my back to the door

Awaiting impending doom



Out from nowhere comes a blade

Just above, next to my face!

“Yes, I’ll get you bastards!”

Saved by God’s grace



He knifed the door a few times more

Until he gave that up

And when he saw he couldn’t push it open

He threatened to burn us up.



So I climbed through the window

As I had done, many times before

And I ran down the road to our neighbour for help

And they phoned the police once more