For what its worth I’ll keep your tears in a jar.

I wake up now and then and stumble through the stars.

 

For what its worth I’ll mince your words on a tat.

My body’s bruised, now scratch my back.

 

I used to love you.

And now I loathe you.

I’m off the hinges,

you’re full of pinches.

 

Oh toodle-oo my little sugar from Capetown.

You’re such a tiger, I’m such a clown.

 

Bonjour my pretty pretty pretty Maggie-Anne.

Is that my picture?  On your nightstand? 

 

I used to love you.

And now I loathe you.

I’m off the hinges,

you’re full of pinches.

 

Your two eyes are like two fire flies that light the darkest caves in Pompeii.

Your soft skin is like a feathered fin in a pond of gimps, I can’t win.

You’re all mine.  The sex is asinine.  I don’t mind cause you’re all mine.

You’re all mine.  The sex is asinine.  I do mind. I do mind.

 

I used to love you.

And now I loathe you.

I’m off the hinges,

you’re full of pinches.

It's the last night we’ll meet.

By the pitchforks we’ll sleep.

In a White House we bought.

At least we thought.

 

There’s a man by the tree.

Preying on those that weep.

Are we safe as thought?

I’m afraid not.

 

We’re just sheep living in the dark.

We’re just sheep waiting for the wolves to come and tear our hearts.

I can see the sun in your eyes as your face turns cold as ice.

I can feel the heat down my cheek as the panic starts to creep.

 

I will be the one who takes it all from you.

I will be the one who walks in your shoes.

 

Diabolic Angel dancing through the night.

Diabolic Angel a requiem for his wife.

Diabolic Angel.

 

I will bring the world to its knees and crown you queen of disease.

I will build a door that meets the sky so we can vanish from the light.

 

I will be the way I always was for you.

I will be the face you never knew.

 

Diabolic Angel dancing through the night.

Diabolic Angel a requiem for his wife.

Diabolic Angel.

 

I will be the one who takes it all from you.

I will be the face you never knew.

 

Diabolic Angel dancing through the night.

Diabolic Angel a requiem for his wife.

Diabolic Angel.

She plays the fiddle like a riddle,

with her hands on deck, 

she will hand you a subpoena,

before she hands you a check. 

 

She’s quite impressive, 

yet quite depressive.  

 

She likes Ben-Hur but she don’t like Tom, 

because Tom waits for her.

 

Tom waits for her,

but she never comes home.

 

Tom waits for her,

and now she’s left him all alone.

 

Wait! Wait!