soul escaping frenzied

tell me, where'd you hide it?

The love is hidden deep in your heart.

It's rotten, but mine is flourishing,

and that's what happens when you leave a wound to fester.

My darling, you're bitter

but I'm sweet to the touch.

Two bullets, one gun.

Six feet, one tomb,

'cause pretty girls make graves

and I'm a sure charmer.