First they're talking, then they're yelling
But who's winning? There's no telling
A perfect storm of hatred and pain
And echoing hostility and bloodless stains

Pushing and pulling, smashing and banging
They lasted too long, how were they hanging
Their disdain was seeping through the walls
Their children awake, a single tear falls

A threatening silence fills the ground
Everything fell quiet, not a single sound
It was becoming alarming, no one even moved
A bigger storm was coming; that could be proved

It was still quiet, but as if on cue
It started again; nothing all that new
But one thing was off; this time she's crying
And that usually meant that she was done trying

Their father was no where to be found
But then again they heard a screeching sound
Normally, that never really ends well
Just another chapter, a story to tell

The kids didn't know what was coming their way
They never thought this would be their last day
They were completely oblivious, trying to sleep
After all this commotion hurt them too deep

Suddenly their rooms locked, one turn each
And it started to smell a little like bleach
Then the smell of petrol filled the air
But what caught their attention was the bright orange flare

Before they could react, they started to suffocate
As their lungs filled with smoke and hate
They took their last breathe as fire engulfed their room
Burned with fire but died of the fume

The paper the next day, broadcasted the news
They figured the story, no need of clues
The death of helpless children deprived of air
Caught in the crossfire of their parents' love affair

-The_Outkast