Can’t talk fast enough to change what he did.
I said, "Keep your God damned hands off my kid"

From a mans fist.
A fat lip.
A womans lip.
A quick lip.

And like in slow motion, a fist and face clash.
Seconds after I threatened to kick his ass.

But I would lay six feet in the dirt.
Before I sit idle while my son gets hurt.
...There's blood on my shirt...

A bleeding lip,
Starts to get swollen.
My tooth made a hole, and...
...There's no tellin where his soul went.

And there aint no telling where my mind's gonna go.
I bleed from my face, my son bleeds from his nose.

His innocents fade. A mans violence steals it.
But this man doesn’t get it. I don't think he FEELS it!
...I grab the cast iron skillet...

My fat lip.
A sad lip...
A mad lip!!!
Can't think so I adlib.

Must regain control, can't retaliate.
If I got to jail I'd have myself to hate.

I hope the swelling goes down in this beaten lip.
Hope it heals real soon so I can kiss my kids.
Got a fat lip, but my soul still exists.

I win.