The eve of my collapse,
I was feeling slightly murderous,
So I intercepted Cupid's arrow,
With passion and precision,
I severed the pig's head

It's the way she looks at me,
And possesses me to collect the head of anyone,
Collect the head of those who look her way,
It's the way her whispers seem to kiss my ear,
I'd collect the head of anyone,
Collect the head of those graced by her voice.

Her mournful screams were like a melody,
Of unimaginable beauty,
I forced her hand in mine,
As we danced to her song of lament.

Oh how I reveled in the gratification,
This slaying of a most loathesome one.

It's the way she looks at me,
And possesses me to collect the head of anyone,
Collect the head of those who look her way,
Its the way her whispers seem to kiss my ear,
I'd collect the head of anyone,
Collect the head of those graced by her voice.

Dance, dance with me tonight,
So you may see what the "truest" love has made of me.

It's the way she looks at me,
And possesses me to collect the head of anyone,
Collect the head of those who look her way,
Its the way her whispers seem to kiss my ear,
I'd collect the head of anyone,
Collect the head of those graced by her voice.

See also:
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