when I was a little girl I dreamt
of a happy, adventurous life;
I once dreamt I would become someone
instead of someone's wife.
but adventure was not meant for me.
(for a woman, it's not right.)
so I settled for the daydreams
by my darling husband's side.
oh, but who knew that you, love,
would ask me to be a thief --
turned a man into a murderer
with that stolen handkerchief.
maybe I, too, am responsible
for this overwhelming grief;
she was good, and kind, a most perfect wife;
but betrayed by jealousy.
now she lies here, dead; all I loved is gone,
and this man, he took her life --
out of jealousy, and o'er a lie;
and he called it sacrifice.
now I, too, must die; and at your hands
but at least I'll die for truth.
my dear husband; they've reserved a special
place in hell for you.