Wherever I go, there too shall be grief (my love) doting on me, tenderly.
Vacant praise for her hollow man. Such poise. What loyalty, what elegance.
Inspired lust in a languid tongue (saved love) and found me where there once
was none. So I burned the bridge she'd have taken to leave. Each one. She's all
I have left. C'est la vie. The more it spreads the closer I come. (Better off
behind your back) where we consummate in the presence of none (dead weight
don't wait) for the violent and endless stream (a spineless yet supporting
cast) of charmless that are harming me. From the cradle to the grave it has
been a walk of shame. What did you think that your absence could bring, old
friend? My heart, it bursts with cavities. A slur couldn't rouse the sadness
I've seen look close. That beauty is life and she's with me. Flaunted
indifference is cheap cologne. Actor, you speak of me in formal tones. To the
gutless dogs that cried mutiny know this: marooned with grief, I'm richer than
kings. From the cradle to the grave has been a walk of shame. I am dead, what
is one less worm? Seconds off of a prisoners term? This is hell. You brought a
candle to burn? I am death. And you have marked my words.