To have two wonderful lifes,
one with kids and two wifes.
One filled blood and knifes,
the holy alliance between cut and sighs.
As the blood runs down,
the brides' gown,
is tear, ripped apart,
with the passion in the heart,,
for the never ending yell,
of someone's hell.
And other's love, passion
to be killed with a cushion.
To be alive and bleed with someone,
To live life with scars, never gone.