Paint the walls black
The start of a joyous poem
She left me, oh and I cried
Waiting for her guilt trip to arrive
It never did.
So I started screaming in vain
She belonged to me so I thought
As if she was a piece of baggage
Her place in my heart
A territory that has vanished
Her place in a brothel
Better of than with me
I still can't believe that ***** left me.