Mamma Make him Stop

A raw acoustic lament, anchored by slow, tentative guitar plucks—each note uneven, bearing the rustic timbre of a weathered dumpster guitar, The arrangement is unadorned, leaving space for the intimate, imperfect voice of a child, with subtle fret buzz capturing every fragile, honest moment

V4.5

Verse Daddy’s yellin’ loud, his hands they hurt me so, I hide under my bed, where the shadows grow. Bottle’s on the floor, it’s breakin’ up our home, I’m scared and all alone, wishin’ he’d be gone. Chorus Mama, make him stop, please make him go away, I’m prayin’ through my tears, for a brighter day. Mama, hear my song, I’m beggin’ you to try, Make him stop the hurt, so I don’t have to cry

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