I see her coffin, covered with lace
I still grimace from our last embrace.
She bit the dust, I have not lied
They all called it a “suicide.”

But I know better, I was there
I pulled out all her golden hair
I threw her from the windowsill
Now she lays dead, frozen, still.

I set the scene, let it unfold
I laugh for now she’s dead and cold.

They had each other, those two
Lying to me through and through.
Now they lie only underground
And their “love” knows no bound.

So now I fear I must depart
A battered, broken, mangled heart.