As I change the sheets of the bed,
I now escape the loneliness in my head,
I bathe thee with the smooch of the sponge;
I now weep for my dead husband that had lunged
I could smell the rotten corpse,
As I kiss the lips of a man who made it worse,
I now envy him for he could dread;
In ethereal home of the land of the dead,
The lanky man has fear of death;
Is now embracing the moment of threat,
Never I shall mourn to thee,
'Coz I'll be with him without any fee,
The cruelty is now mine,
For I kill my lover with a bottle of wine,
They say insanity feeds most of me,
For I just had the most normal thing to see.
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