They told me she lives in a ritzy penthouse
In a sea of silver pearls and in a boat of money
However sorrow melts the happiness from her face
Her eyes are dull; a pale indigo
Her frown is like a scar permanently tarnishing her skin
And her heart, even though it’s alive, is dead
For it does not tick to the sweet song of life

I am going to live even though I’m dying
I will live longer than her
The women that is drowning in her money
Because she is going to die for me
She is going to give me her heart
I don’t know why she has desired to die unrest in surgery
And give up a life I would relish in
I don’t want her to take that bullet for me
I should die commodious in the house of death
Hooked up to a heart monitor and gagging on drugs

For I have nothing to live for
And she has everything to take