Her words.
His fists.
Make them cry like little birds.
And wrap white tape around their wrists.
Fall, fall, watch him fall.
Thump, thump, she's thrown to the floor.
Words, Words, her words slam him to the wall.
In and out, in and out, she'll crawl, in and out of the door.
Love, love, love.
Why can't it be,
as pure as a dove?
And why can't they see?
A lust for blood they must feed.
So we sit right back and watch them bleed.
