Your Tormentors from Now Then by Robbie Fulks

His old man never raised a hand against him
Till the sun was down and the curtains were drawn
But dressed up in daylight, with his tongue held tight
How did the neighbors know what was going on?

They all had their ideas about Eva
She only had to leave the room and they would flow
By the time the man was finally jailed for battery
They all agreed, it should’ve happened years ago
They will smile at you with sympathy and sorrow
They will whisper all the things they’d like to say
But you’ll never hear a word ‘bout your tormentors
Till your tormentors are somewhere far away

They let him in her room ‘cause he was family
And moreover, his social rank was high
What he did to her, well who can really say for sure?
She was only eight and known to fantasize

A family may be just like a prison
And a little town will keep its prisons strong
The weakest ones are pitied, but they’re burdens
And the warden’s word is final, right or wrong

They will smile at you with sympathy and sorrow
They will offer their concern and dismay
But you’ll never hear them speak of your tormentors
Till they have died or gone somewhere far away

No, they’ll utter not a word against your tormentors
Till your tormentors are somewhere far away

• Folk
• alt-country
• Chicago