2:50 minutes
The poison that she drinks
And the lies he has her say
The choices that she makes
They keep pushing me away
He trickles down her throat,
Taking her consciousness as he goes,
What was once a field of tulips,
Is now a wilted rose
He steals her every thought,
He robs her pockets clean,
Taking life, and wounding me,
He does more than it may seem
Screaming, fighting, it doesn’t help
At least not to set her free,
She may be captured by just one ghost,
But is blinded and can’t see
The emptiness that fills her soul,
The weakness of her lean,
I swear, I keep on looking,
But she’s nowhere to be seen
How evil and how horrid,
That man the secret key,
And for two ninety-nine a bottle,
He stole her, too, from me.
