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