No More Broken Wings
3/25/10
Hell is NOT for Children - it is for the ABUSERs!
Hell is not for children it should only be reserved for those who abuse children and the people those children hold near and dear to their hearts.
I am back again and hurting tonight. I see many advocates in pain suffering while blogging, twittering, and connecting with other advocates and victims. I feel my story while intense and graphic and something that should never have happened to me or to my children is minor, so very minor.
So I come again to open another piece of my life to you. To give away yet another piece of this monstrosity I call "my life".
Emily again is afraid. Afraid to stand up and afraid not to stand up. Our abuser is terrorizing us yet again. He is threatening to tear up her life, cause her embarrassment. If we stand up and say no more, the embarrassment will be there. If we fold and lay down silent, we are victimized yet again. The situation is so trivial in and of itself, yet it is the small things that will become huge. If we remain silent, we invite more evil and worse events upon us in the future. It is the way of an abuser.
What is causing little Emily such strife? Her school is on vacation very soon and her father is demanding that he have her beyond what has been ordered through the courts. Now if he was not abusive to me, if his current spouse did not assist him in his reign of terror, if he was truly a loving father to Emily, I would have no qualms about him having this time. But sadly, Emily's father is none of these things. And rather than be a good father, he must flex his muscles and show who is boss. And Emily, dear sweet Emily, is torn in too many pieces by another episode. Much like her mother has been over my life. And how to explain to this child without falling into that trap of "alienation" that befalls so many protective mothers and children? How do I explain what she sees and still maintain under the law of our state the bond between father and child, that in all honesty should be his job to maintain and nurture?
Stuck in the middle of this mess is another child, now grown, John. This child was denied relationship after relationship with his biological family due to greed.
And these children need each other. They need to move past the abuses and grow together as siblings. And Emily's father wants to deny this bond between siblings. He in fact feels it is his God-given right to demand and have us acquiese to those demands. OUR feelings mean nothing to him. They mean even less to his new spouse.
So we shall see what the future holds for us. Will Emily be tortured and embarrassed and move one step closer to that ever approaching hell we call forced separation that many protective mothers and children suffer silently in family courts around the world? Will her world suddenly become hell as Pat Benatar says here? Or will I, Annie, be able to save her from that? Can I do something to not only save her but keep all the other Emily's out there safe?
Only time will tell. Until then please pray for me, my family, but especially for Emily and John in the coming days and weeks.
They cry in the dark, so you can't see their tears
They hide in the light, so you can't see their fears
Forgive and forget, all the while
Love and pain become one and the same
In the eyes of a wounded child
Because Hell
Hell Is For Children
And you know that their little lives can become such a mess
Hell
Hell Is For Children
And you shouldn't have to pay for your love with your bones and your flesh
It's all so confusing, this brutal abusing
They blacken your eyes, and then apologize
You're daddy's good girl, and don't tell mommy a thing
Be a good little boy, and you'll get a new toy
Tell grandma you fell off the swing
Because Hell
Hell Is For Children
And you know that their little lives can become such a mess
Hell
Hell Is For Children
And you shouldn't have to pay for your love with your bones and your flesh
No, Hell Is For Children
Hell
Hell is for Hell
Hell is for Hell
Hell Is For Children
Hell
Hell is for Hell
Hell is for Hell
Hell Is For Children
Hell
Hell is for Hell
Hell is for Hell
Hell Is For Children
Hell Is For Children
Hell Is For Children
I am back again and hurting tonight. I see many advocates in pain suffering while blogging, twittering, and connecting with other advocates and victims. I feel my story while intense and graphic and something that should never have happened to me or to my children is minor, so very minor.
So I come again to open another piece of my life to you. To give away yet another piece of this monstrosity I call "my life".
Emily again is afraid. Afraid to stand up and afraid not to stand up. Our abuser is terrorizing us yet again. He is threatening to tear up her life, cause her embarrassment. If we stand up and say no more, the embarrassment will be there. If we fold and lay down silent, we are victimized yet again. The situation is so trivial in and of itself, yet it is the small things that will become huge. If we remain silent, we invite more evil and worse events upon us in the future. It is the way of an abuser.
What is causing little Emily such strife? Her school is on vacation very soon and her father is demanding that he have her beyond what has been ordered through the courts. Now if he was not abusive to me, if his current spouse did not assist him in his reign of terror, if he was truly a loving father to Emily, I would have no qualms about him having this time. But sadly, Emily's father is none of these things. And rather than be a good father, he must flex his muscles and show who is boss. And Emily, dear sweet Emily, is torn in too many pieces by another episode. Much like her mother has been over my life. And how to explain to this child without falling into that trap of "alienation" that befalls so many protective mothers and children? How do I explain what she sees and still maintain under the law of our state the bond between father and child, that in all honesty should be his job to maintain and nurture?
Stuck in the middle of this mess is another child, now grown, John. This child was denied relationship after relationship with his biological family due to greed.
And these children need each other. They need to move past the abuses and grow together as siblings. And Emily's father wants to deny this bond between siblings. He in fact feels it is his God-given right to demand and have us acquiese to those demands. OUR feelings mean nothing to him. They mean even less to his new spouse.
So we shall see what the future holds for us. Will Emily be tortured and embarrassed and move one step closer to that ever approaching hell we call forced separation that many protective mothers and children suffer silently in family courts around the world? Will her world suddenly become hell as Pat Benatar says here? Or will I, Annie, be able to save her from that? Can I do something to not only save her but keep all the other Emily's out there safe?
Only time will tell. Until then please pray for me, my family, but especially for Emily and John in the coming days and weeks.
They cry in the dark, so you can't see their tears
They hide in the light, so you can't see their fears
Forgive and forget, all the while
Love and pain become one and the same
In the eyes of a wounded child
Because Hell
Hell Is For Children
And you know that their little lives can become such a mess
Hell
Hell Is For Children
And you shouldn't have to pay for your love with your bones and your flesh
It's all so confusing, this brutal abusing
They blacken your eyes, and then apologize
You're daddy's good girl, and don't tell mommy a thing
Be a good little boy, and you'll get a new toy
Tell grandma you fell off the swing
Because Hell
Hell Is For Children
And you know that their little lives can become such a mess
Hell
Hell Is For Children
And you shouldn't have to pay for your love with your bones and your flesh
No, Hell Is For Children
Hell
Hell is for Hell
Hell is for Hell
Hell Is For Children
Hell
Hell is for Hell
Hell is for Hell
Hell Is For Children
Hell
Hell is for Hell
Hell is for Hell
Hell Is For Children
Hell Is For Children
Hell Is For Children
Labels: Abuse, Emily, Hell Is For Children, John, Music, Pat Benatar, Siblings
3/24/10
Another victim for you to meet
I am trying to be creative and interesting in my introductions. I am tired and worn out from the life of terror I have lived. I have cried rivers and oceans of tears and the tears never seem to dry up.
So I bring another victim into this fray. I want to introduce you to my son John*. John is a wonderful young man, barely into adulthood stretching his wings and looking for his true love, his place in life.
I will not go into the details of my early life with John's biological father. At 16/17 I had more common sense sadly in some ways than I did with Emily's father. At the first sign of battering and abuse, I walked away, taking what was left of my dignity and pride. Little did I realize that I also took away a piece of John's father inside me. Barely an adult myself I was carrying a brand new life inside.
I reveled in the absolute amaxement I felt when the first movements came from John. The little fists that would run circles around my abdomen. I was so huge and so obviously pregnant. Everyone said I waddled like a beanpole who had swallowed the proverbial watermelon. I had many who proclaimed I would never make it, I was too young, too immature to bring this life into the world. But that mattered none. After living the life I had filled with abuse, I swore I would be different. This little child growing inside of me would never get hurt, he or she would never suffer the pain and anguish I had suffered. Everything I had would be his. And for a few short years it was.
The years of confusion, terror, and abuse I suffered caught up to us however. But that will be in many more posts to come. John is back and while we can never recover those years, we can move on and rebuild from here. John and Emily can build something good and be free from abuse. Maybe......
(see next post)
So I bring another victim into this fray. I want to introduce you to my son John*. John is a wonderful young man, barely into adulthood stretching his wings and looking for his true love, his place in life.
I will not go into the details of my early life with John's biological father. At 16/17 I had more common sense sadly in some ways than I did with Emily's father. At the first sign of battering and abuse, I walked away, taking what was left of my dignity and pride. Little did I realize that I also took away a piece of John's father inside me. Barely an adult myself I was carrying a brand new life inside.
I reveled in the absolute amaxement I felt when the first movements came from John. The little fists that would run circles around my abdomen. I was so huge and so obviously pregnant. Everyone said I waddled like a beanpole who had swallowed the proverbial watermelon. I had many who proclaimed I would never make it, I was too young, too immature to bring this life into the world. But that mattered none. After living the life I had filled with abuse, I swore I would be different. This little child growing inside of me would never get hurt, he or she would never suffer the pain and anguish I had suffered. Everything I had would be his. And for a few short years it was.
The years of confusion, terror, and abuse I suffered caught up to us however. But that will be in many more posts to come. John is back and while we can never recover those years, we can move on and rebuild from here. John and Emily can build something good and be free from abuse. Maybe......
(see next post)
I'm Still Here, I'm Still Standing
I'm okay, I'm alright
Hurricanes and trainwrecks only last one night
Would you believe all I've been through?
Had the hands of tempted fate
Oh, if you only knew
What it costs, how I wait
What I got, what I gave
Chorus:
I'm still here...
After the heartache, after the storm blew through
I kept me and it saved me
I'm still standin', right where you left me
On a cold dark cloud, with nowhere to fall but down
Like a single, naked unrelenting tear...
I'm still here
There was darkness, all around me
There were times I was sure I was drowning
There were people, who tried to reach me
But no matter how they loved me, I kept sinking
I got tired on my own hand, I reached inside and I saved myself
Chorus:
I'm still here...
After the heartache, after the storm blew through
I kept me and it saved me
I'm still standin', right where you left me
On a cold dark cloud, with nowhere to fall but down
Like a single, naked unrelenting tear...
I'm still here
This time I can survive.
I ain't dying on nobody else's cross
I ain't sufferin' no more unforgivin' loss
Oh, no.
I'm still here...
After the heartache, after the storm blew through
I kept me and it saved me
And I'm still standin', right where you left me
On a cold dark cloud, with nowhere to fall but down
Like a single, naked unrelenting tear...
I'm still here
I'm still here
Labels: Abuse, I'm Still Here, Mindy McCready, Music, Songs Free Us
3/23/10
Creative title for "About Me"?
I am trying to come up with a creative title that says "About Me", but am hitting a roadblock.
No matter, I will simply type what comes into my brain tonight. I have posted a few music videos and given roundabout introductions of myself and my daughter. So I guess it is time for formal introductions.
My name is Annie* and I am an abuse survivor for over 4 decades. Yes you read that right, four decades. I plan to share my story and the story of my children on here as well when I have time. I also will use music which was my sole respite during the abusive episodes.
I started this blog for several reasons. Many years have passed since I left my abusive husband. Yet he still attempts to control not only our child but myself as well. He resorts to terrorist tactics among the few things he will do in order to continue to exert his control. He can no longer assault me, so this is what we are left with.
So I created this blog as kind of a journal of sorts (albeit a very public one) in order to release the tension I feel when his terror reign comes full circle yet once again. I also created it in order to document and show how much I have changed in this journey to be a divorced battered woman. And finally, we have a child who is stuck in the middle. The child you met in my post Why Did I Leave?. It was in this post that I brought you into my life a little and introduced Emily* to all of you. Emily has lived a very long life in her few short years. She sees good men at school, her best friends have a good dad, Emily has a wonderful big brother, many awesome uncles, and I have several decent male friends. But all the men in the world cannot make up for the fact that her father hates me more than he loves her.
So while she has seen the abuse he has inflicted and has no doubt in her young mind that this abuse is wrong, she has no where to take this. She loves her father but hates his actions. I will not tell her the truth while she is young (unlike her father as I will share as this blog moves along) but I will document it for her to see when she is mature and old enough to handle seeing the truth.
Some may fault me for that, but this is not an attempt to tear down her father. I want to show her what bad behavior looks like (and that just so happens to be his behavior) and on the same token share what good behavior looks like (my boyfriend, the father of her best friends, her uncles, her brother and other male friends).
There are many people in my life and as such these people are decent and good people and they know about this blog and they support my decision to create it 100%. They have no fears or qualms about the privacy factor, but I do. I am not quite ready to come out 100%. I hope all of you will understand that. As such all comments are moderated, and those who know my identity if I feel a post is too close to revealing my true self the comment will hit file 13 :-) I hope you do not mind and please don't take offense to that.
On the same token all comments who say I am lying, who call me names, who use any type of what I deem to be abusive behaviors will also be banned. I also make no apologies for that in advance. This blog as I said above is multi faceted. One of the most important aspects is a safe outlet for me. As such I REFUSE to allow abuse to invade what is mine.
I want to share the first episode of abuse I vividly recall as a young child. I do not have a lot of childhood recall, I remember mostly good stuff and there is quite enough bad stuff peeking through to make me realize (and also clue in the professionals involved) that I lived a horrendous childhood. Not as bad as some child abuse victims and worse than others. All in all though abuse is abuse is abuse, no matter the form it takes and the severity. It is all abuse and it all hurts.
I remember being about 7 or so and my brothers and sisters and I had done something that angered our father. He was again on one of his famous alcohol induced benders, and when he called us and pulled out the hassock, we knew it was time. Lining up youngest to oldest, we stood in line in front of that hassock and watched as one of us was called forward to choose "the stick". The stick was a 2 foot long green bamboo stick. I remember after "the stick" was chosen, one by one we would have to lean over the hassock and our father would use "the stick" on our bottoms. We could not cry especially my brothers because they were boys and they were not allowed to cry. Crying meant an extra spank for the girls and two for the boys. I never understood that.
Generally one of my brothers would take the blame for whatever it was that had been done, whether he was guilty or not. He did it to stop the beatings. What stands out about this one day was the fact that I was wearing what I now know was the ugliest pair of yellow shorts ever created. They had to be cut into pieces and thrown away because my mother could not get the green stains off of them and she could not thorw them away intact, otherwise what would people think of the green stains on the butt portion of my shorts? Back in the 70's there were not many stain remover products like we had now and she dared not buy them, because she would be abused for wasteful purchases and abuse was America's dirty little secret so we could not have anyone guessing that our father was beating us. No that would never do.....
Well I think that is enough to swallow for one night. On to spell check and then to sleep. I think a hot bath is called for tonight. It will relax my muscles and bring on those good sleep vibes.
On another note, please share this blog with anyone you feel may benefit. Please check back here often and comment. I may ramble from time to time, I may jump from the 19070's to 2010, but I hope to present and document a clear and concise journey of the pain not only myself but my chidlren, especially my children have endured due to this abuse. And it all starts somewhere.
I am breaking my silence in order to give my children a good life. Please hold my hand as I share my life with you and do not be harsh with me.
No matter, I will simply type what comes into my brain tonight. I have posted a few music videos and given roundabout introductions of myself and my daughter. So I guess it is time for formal introductions.
My name is Annie* and I am an abuse survivor for over 4 decades. Yes you read that right, four decades. I plan to share my story and the story of my children on here as well when I have time. I also will use music which was my sole respite during the abusive episodes.
I started this blog for several reasons. Many years have passed since I left my abusive husband. Yet he still attempts to control not only our child but myself as well. He resorts to terrorist tactics among the few things he will do in order to continue to exert his control. He can no longer assault me, so this is what we are left with.
So I created this blog as kind of a journal of sorts (albeit a very public one) in order to release the tension I feel when his terror reign comes full circle yet once again. I also created it in order to document and show how much I have changed in this journey to be a divorced battered woman. And finally, we have a child who is stuck in the middle. The child you met in my post Why Did I Leave?. It was in this post that I brought you into my life a little and introduced Emily* to all of you. Emily has lived a very long life in her few short years. She sees good men at school, her best friends have a good dad, Emily has a wonderful big brother, many awesome uncles, and I have several decent male friends. But all the men in the world cannot make up for the fact that her father hates me more than he loves her.
So while she has seen the abuse he has inflicted and has no doubt in her young mind that this abuse is wrong, she has no where to take this. She loves her father but hates his actions. I will not tell her the truth while she is young (unlike her father as I will share as this blog moves along) but I will document it for her to see when she is mature and old enough to handle seeing the truth.
Some may fault me for that, but this is not an attempt to tear down her father. I want to show her what bad behavior looks like (and that just so happens to be his behavior) and on the same token share what good behavior looks like (my boyfriend, the father of her best friends, her uncles, her brother and other male friends).
There are many people in my life and as such these people are decent and good people and they know about this blog and they support my decision to create it 100%. They have no fears or qualms about the privacy factor, but I do. I am not quite ready to come out 100%. I hope all of you will understand that. As such all comments are moderated, and those who know my identity if I feel a post is too close to revealing my true self the comment will hit file 13 :-) I hope you do not mind and please don't take offense to that.
On the same token all comments who say I am lying, who call me names, who use any type of what I deem to be abusive behaviors will also be banned. I also make no apologies for that in advance. This blog as I said above is multi faceted. One of the most important aspects is a safe outlet for me. As such I REFUSE to allow abuse to invade what is mine.
I want to share the first episode of abuse I vividly recall as a young child. I do not have a lot of childhood recall, I remember mostly good stuff and there is quite enough bad stuff peeking through to make me realize (and also clue in the professionals involved) that I lived a horrendous childhood. Not as bad as some child abuse victims and worse than others. All in all though abuse is abuse is abuse, no matter the form it takes and the severity. It is all abuse and it all hurts.
I remember being about 7 or so and my brothers and sisters and I had done something that angered our father. He was again on one of his famous alcohol induced benders, and when he called us and pulled out the hassock, we knew it was time. Lining up youngest to oldest, we stood in line in front of that hassock and watched as one of us was called forward to choose "the stick". The stick was a 2 foot long green bamboo stick. I remember after "the stick" was chosen, one by one we would have to lean over the hassock and our father would use "the stick" on our bottoms. We could not cry especially my brothers because they were boys and they were not allowed to cry. Crying meant an extra spank for the girls and two for the boys. I never understood that.
Generally one of my brothers would take the blame for whatever it was that had been done, whether he was guilty or not. He did it to stop the beatings. What stands out about this one day was the fact that I was wearing what I now know was the ugliest pair of yellow shorts ever created. They had to be cut into pieces and thrown away because my mother could not get the green stains off of them and she could not thorw them away intact, otherwise what would people think of the green stains on the butt portion of my shorts? Back in the 70's there were not many stain remover products like we had now and she dared not buy them, because she would be abused for wasteful purchases and abuse was America's dirty little secret so we could not have anyone guessing that our father was beating us. No that would never do.....
Well I think that is enough to swallow for one night. On to spell check and then to sleep. I think a hot bath is called for tonight. It will relax my muscles and bring on those good sleep vibes.
On another note, please share this blog with anyone you feel may benefit. Please check back here often and comment. I may ramble from time to time, I may jump from the 19070's to 2010, but I hope to present and document a clear and concise journey of the pain not only myself but my chidlren, especially my children have endured due to this abuse. And it all starts somewhere.
I am breaking my silence in order to give my children a good life. Please hold my hand as I share my life with you and do not be harsh with me.
3/22/10
Every Breath You Take
When this was released I truly felt this was about a man who loved his partner/wife/girlfriend. Wow how deluded was I? I now see it on the other end of a relationship plagued by stalking issues. Emily is even being used to escalate the stalking, so that my activities and whereabouts can be determined at any time - night or day. Does mommy stay at home? When does mommy get home? Where does mommy go when she leaves? Does anyone visit your mommy? Who comes to your house? Where do you and mommy go? Does mommy have a new boyfriend? Where does mommy's boyfriend live?
Then we get to move on to the harrassment and stalking of the boyfriend. Well, Mr. Z, you know Annie is a criminal? And I know all about this because... well I am just making up whatever I want to make up because I was not there and she told me about what happened and of course she is lying. All these women lie you see.
I know pretty lame huh? Brain is tired and very angry right now. I see something good slipping away and why? Because a man has the right to be a father. Children do not have rights to be safe. Mothers and ex-wives do not have a right to be people anymore. As if they ever had a right to be safe, to be their own person.
So back to "Every Breath You Take".... I see my abuser, Emily's abuser out there all the time. You might think I am crazy, but he admitted to following me and Emily and he also admitted to having friends and his family do likewise. The person to whom he admitted this little tidbit of information had an interesting observation.
First I would like a few comments about what you felt this "professional's" reply to me was about this admitted stalking. In a few days (or weeks whenever I feel like answering), I will post the actual verbatim comment (as noted in case files).
Now this will be interesting. I am curious what my readers think. And guess what? The results will probably surprise you and will probably scare many of you. And before we jump to conclusions, there is ABSOLUTELY no way this comment could be mistaken for anything other than what was spoken.
So on I go to zzz-land to catch a few winks before returning to my weekday world of jobs and school and lunches and work. Some enjoyment in the next week for me as there was this weekend. Still worried though as we quickly approach a major holiday and the abuser is set to turn up the volume on how much and whom he can control.
AND ABUSE.....
Every breath you take and every move you make
Every bond you break
Every step you take, I'll be watching you
Every single day and every word you say
Every game you play
Every night you stay, I'll be watching you
Oh can't you see you belong to me?
How my poor heart aches with every step you take
Every move you make and every vow you break
Every smile you fake
Every claim you stake, I'll be watching you
Since you've gone I've been lost without a trace
I dream at night
I can only see your face
I look around but it's you I can't replace
I feel so cold and I long for your embrace
I keep crying baby, baby please
Oh can't you see you belong to me?
How my poor heart aches with every step you take
Every move you make
And every vow you break
Every smile you fake
Every claim you stake, I'll be watching you
Every move you make
Every step you take, I'll be watching you, I'll be watching you
Every breath you take
Every move you make
Every bond you break
Every step you take, I'll be watching you
Every single day
Every word you say
Every game you play
Every night you stay, I'll be watching you
Every move you make
Every vow you break
Every smile you fake
Every claim you stake, I'll be watching you
Every single day
Every word you say
Every game you play
Every night you stay, I'll be watching you
Every breath you take
Every move you make
Every bond you break
Every step you take, I'll be watching you
Every single day
Every word you say
Every game you play
Every night you stay, I'll be watching you
Every move you make
Every vow you break
Every smile you fake
Every claim you stake, I'll be watching you
Every single day
Every word you say
Every game you play
Every night you stay, I'll be watching you
Every breath you take
Every move you make
Every bond you break
Every step you take, I'll be watching you
Then we get to move on to the harrassment and stalking of the boyfriend. Well, Mr. Z, you know Annie is a criminal? And I know all about this because... well I am just making up whatever I want to make up because I was not there and she told me about what happened and of course she is lying. All these women lie you see.
I know pretty lame huh? Brain is tired and very angry right now. I see something good slipping away and why? Because a man has the right to be a father. Children do not have rights to be safe. Mothers and ex-wives do not have a right to be people anymore. As if they ever had a right to be safe, to be their own person.
So back to "Every Breath You Take".... I see my abuser, Emily's abuser out there all the time. You might think I am crazy, but he admitted to following me and Emily and he also admitted to having friends and his family do likewise. The person to whom he admitted this little tidbit of information had an interesting observation.
First I would like a few comments about what you felt this "professional's" reply to me was about this admitted stalking. In a few days (or weeks whenever I feel like answering), I will post the actual verbatim comment (as noted in case files).
Now this will be interesting. I am curious what my readers think. And guess what? The results will probably surprise you and will probably scare many of you. And before we jump to conclusions, there is ABSOLUTELY no way this comment could be mistaken for anything other than what was spoken.
So on I go to zzz-land to catch a few winks before returning to my weekday world of jobs and school and lunches and work. Some enjoyment in the next week for me as there was this weekend. Still worried though as we quickly approach a major holiday and the abuser is set to turn up the volume on how much and whom he can control.
AND ABUSE.....
Every breath you take and every move you make
Every bond you break
Every step you take, I'll be watching you
Every single day and every word you say
Every game you play
Every night you stay, I'll be watching you
Oh can't you see you belong to me?
How my poor heart aches with every step you take
Every move you make and every vow you break
Every smile you fake
Every claim you stake, I'll be watching you
Since you've gone I've been lost without a trace
I dream at night
I can only see your face
I look around but it's you I can't replace
I feel so cold and I long for your embrace
I keep crying baby, baby please
Oh can't you see you belong to me?
How my poor heart aches with every step you take
Every move you make
And every vow you break
Every smile you fake
Every claim you stake, I'll be watching you
Every move you make
Every step you take, I'll be watching you, I'll be watching you
Every breath you take
Every move you make
Every bond you break
Every step you take, I'll be watching you
Every single day
Every word you say
Every game you play
Every night you stay, I'll be watching you
Every move you make
Every vow you break
Every smile you fake
Every claim you stake, I'll be watching you
Every single day
Every word you say
Every game you play
Every night you stay, I'll be watching you
Every breath you take
Every move you make
Every bond you break
Every step you take, I'll be watching you
Every single day
Every word you say
Every game you play
Every night you stay, I'll be watching you
Every move you make
Every vow you break
Every smile you fake
Every claim you stake, I'll be watching you
Every single day
Every word you say
Every game you play
Every night you stay, I'll be watching you
Every breath you take
Every move you make
Every bond you break
Every step you take, I'll be watching you
Labels: Abuse, Every Breath You Take, Music, Police, Songs Free Us, Stalking
