He did not wear a scarlet coat
   But still my blood runs red
All my blood was on his hands
    When they found him with the dead
The poor dead girl he hadn't loved
   And murdered in her bed.

He walked amongst the Senior Class
   In a polo shirt of gray
No hat was placed upon his head
   But his step was light and gay
But never once did he think
   To look wistfully at the day

Never did they see him look
   With a sad or wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
   That we dreamers call the sky
And at every drifting cloud that went
   With sails of silver by

I walked with no other souls in pain
   From friendship ring to ring
And was wondering if anyone knew
   What he had done to me
When a voice behind me whispered low,
   "Is he dating her now? They're so cute together!"

Dear Christ! The very highschool walls
   Suddenly seemed to reel
And the ceiling above my head became
   Like a casque of scorching steel
And though I was a soul in pain
   My pain they did not feel

They did not know what hunted thought
   Quickened my step and why
I looked upon the garish day
   With such a wistful eye
He had killed who he said he loved
   Yet he was not who died.

Yet each man kills the thing he loves
   By each let this be heard
Some do it with a bitter look
   Some with a flattering word
The coward does it with a kiss
   The brave man with a sword!

Some **** their love when they are young
   Some when they are old
Some strangle it with hands of Lust
   Some with hands of gold
The kindest use a knife because
   The dead so soon grows cold

Some love too little, some too long
   Some sell and others buy
Some do the deed with many tears
   Some without a sigh
For each man kills the thing he loves
   But this man did not die.

It was I who died a death of shame
   On a day of dark disgrace
I wore the noose around my neck
   But no cloth hid my face
They saw my pain the moment I dropped
   Into an empty place

I waste away with noisy friends
    Who gossip night and day
Who gossip when I try to weep
   And when I try to pray
Who gossip lest I should forget
   Who laughs at the end of the day

I wake at dawn each day to see
   His face across the room
I hear his words, they hit my heart,
   Like the brazen bells of doom.
And no one looks at me to see
   My pallid air of gloom.

Each day, I rise in piteous haste
   To put on convict clothes
So his foul-mouthed cohorts can gloat and note
   Each new and nerve-twitched pose
As he taps his phone with little clicks
   Like horrible hammer blows.

I know to whom he sends the texts
   The girl who caught his eye
I can't help but think, "You're beautiful."
   Was nothing but a lie.
So still I look to God above
   And heave a windy sigh.

It was he who kissed me on the lips
   And sentenced me to die
His hand held my breaking heart
   And said, "Please do not cry."
But a coward's kiss kills half as quick
   As the hand that holds the knife.

But all men **** the thing they love
   By all let this be heard
Some do it with a bitter look
   Some with a flattering word
The coward does it with a kiss
   The brave man with a sword!