The nighttime weighs so heavy,
When the shadows fall so hard,
And in the thickening darkness,
A chill runs through my heart,
And with the deafening silence,
As my thoughts become perturbed,
I hear the ghosts of yesterday,
Still whispering your words.
As I sit here suspended in fear,
Still broken by your scorn,
I find it hard to think good thoughts,
As my anger sickly forms,
Depraved images of revenge,
Intent to cause you pain,
Oh how I wish to make you feel,
The pain I've felt in vain.
It's hard to soothe a broken heart,
When that heart belongs to you,
And it's sinful to plot revenge,
I know that to be true,
But you can't mend a broken heart,
By crying tears all the time,
And so I must avenge my shame,
If I can't make you mine.
As I stand on the shaky stool,
The rope around my neck,
I'll do the deed, it is my call,
For I'm far too proud to beg,
I hope that you will think of me,
As you squirm beneath his quilt,
And your darkness weighs as much as mine,
To fill your heart with guilt!...
...alas, I cannot break your heart,
As easily as you broke mine,
And so I'll step down from the stool,
And pretend that I am fine,
I'll cry my tears and break my heart,
And forever wail in vain,
And when the morning comes I'll sleep,
Until the darkness falls again.