My name is Misty, I am but three,
My eyes are swollen, I cannot see.
I must not be loved, for I am punished by cigarette burns.
I must do right, I can't do wrong,
Or else I am locked up, all week long.
When I awake, I'm all alone.
The house is dark, my folks are gone.
Deep down inside I feel bad for Mom and Dad.
I'm really just an expensive joke...
No more, no less, than speed or coke.
Be quiet now! I hear a car.
My dad is back from the bar.
I hear him curse. My name he calls.
I squeeze myself against the wall on my bed.
It's too late.
His face is twisted into hate.
I feel the pain again and again,
Oh, Dear God! Please let it end.
I am but three.
Last night my father murdered me...