To think about them dying,
And not having a single care,
To think about doing the killing,
That's hard to bare;

To can't it stand it to be around them,
To wish they would just,
Leave me completely alone,
To the point that I'm going to bust;

To not care where they go,
As long as it's away from me,
To feel a prisoner around them,
To feel anything but free;

To feel a stong power,
As stong as true love,
But more different than,
The night and darkness from above;

To feel this one deep feeling,
That just can not wait,
And to feel it for your one and only father,
That is what you call real hate.