foul is fair and fair is foul
these words echo across my soul
wreaking havoc that was never existed
telling that what i get is far better then deserved
and that what i am is far worse then i could think
the fountain of happiness has denied me my drink
that im to be taken to the edge and cast off the brink
and drown in the river of sorrow
till i reach the river stix
the man stands there holding her picture, so shallow is the man.
the man stands there the rain pouring down, full of sorrow is the man.
the man stands there watching her blood flow from the wound, so unlucky is the man.
the man stands there watching her grow cold, so hollow is the man.
the man stands there letting the rain make tears he cannot form, so lonely is the man.
there stands the man looking at the blade in her chest, so close to the edge is the man.
there stands the man no more the same blade in his heart, so loving was the man, no more.
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