Left work early, driving on our road
Why is his car parked in the driveway of our home?
Call your phone but no response, open the door cautiously
Is that distant moaning what I fear it could be?
Walk upstairs, headboard is banging, shadows entangling, an erotic scent
Suspicions confirmed, a mind full of doubt, builds blind rage, as you’ll soon find out
I’ve been through such pain from you
Carnal justice this bed will be his tomb
This bed will be his tomb
Watch for a minute, he’s thrusting in deeply
You claw at his back with reckless indifference to cheating
Moans grow louder, the sheets have been stained
There are no chemicals to clean the betrayal and shame
Open the door, all eye contact, sheets pulled up, and stories created
Get on the floor, serve me as you served him, make him witness, before I say that
I’ve been through such pain from you
Carnal justice this bed will be your tomb
This bed will be your tomb
I unholster my pistol, his wounds create a fountain
Spattering our room in a perfect crime scene crimson
I force you at gunpoint to lay down
In the pools of your suitor’s blood
Fornicate with me like you did him
It’ll all end soon enough
Come to me, come for me
Rub it raw, taste the
Blood
Then shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot
A visceral scene, two corpses and me
All that remains of our once precious history
But prison seems arduous, living feels pointless
I guess my body will make three
