Murder Is Beautiful

The only evidence left is the place where the grass doesn't grow any more.

That spot where we threw the b*****d down. That spot where he felt himself die.

Every time I pass that mark upon the ground, I can't help but smile.

Because I never felt so close to you as when we put the knife right in his face

And danced and sang around him,

Pouring gaseoline upon him,

Raining matches all across him.

 

And as the fire burned so bright,

It was echoed in your eyes.

 

Screams are the perfect soundtrack to a kiss.