She’s not the woman in red,
She’s not out to win her bread,
She’s wanting something else instead.

There’s no need to fill her purse,
What she craves for is much worse,
And she won’t ever reimburse.

She’s hunting for precious life,
She cares not of how much strife
Is brought upon a man and wife.

She wants him in her power,
Makes him fall any hour,
But her sweetness turns to sour.

She gives pleasures to borrow,
Makes him forget the sorrow
Of remorse he’ll bear tomorrow.

From the first time that he fell,
Her steps led him on to hell.
Most don’t escape, but time will tell.