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Poetry
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| By the ounce. | |
| By mrsbumble | ||
| 27 July 2007 | ||
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Death sits on the edge of our bed, Checking the mattress for bounce, Whilst we sleep he looks in your head, Your heart, Your very soul, Guilt is piling up by the ounce. He follows you now as you go to her bed, Checking the mattress for bounce, Whilst you are loving her, he looks in her head, Her heart, Her very soul, Guilt is piling up by the ounce, He sees into your hearts, your minds and your souls, Feeds hungrily, greedily upon your deceipt, Turning our love angels into ghouls, The verdict he declares, "It's over, it's done", "Into the arms of another he's gone", "Get over it you will but I have to go", "He has a new mattress, and a new woman you know." Death sits on the edge of your new bed Checking the mattress for bounce Whilst you sleep he looks in your head Your heart Your very Soul Is regret piling up by the ounce?
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