There will be gnashing and whining
Our flesh will twist from the grip of hand on skin
Red is my eyes
You have not yet noticed
The honored guest is in a velvet lined box
Invited are his brides
his mother, his sister
He can never have daughters
No sins passed from this moment on
The offense is on our hands
The tears shed will be drank like wine
She loves me? She loves me not?
The light left your eyes when you had chosen the latter