| Your evil bride is waiting for you outside
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| She dyed her seashell dress scarlet and has decided
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| To not walk down the aisle
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| With her usual fake smile
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| She must have thought about it for awhile
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| Before she became so hostile
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| It’s not my fault she can’t abide
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| His usual fake style
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| And she prefers the windward side
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| And wants to do things the way she decides
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| She wants to bide all her time travelling worldwide
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| And learn how to scry
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| and see how those things coincide
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| If she is out of sight
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| It’s because she does hate lights
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| Since she has to bite
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| She only lives at night
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| She knows exactly what you saw
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| Because of the threefold law
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| In spite of her best endeavours
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| She could not change her behaviour
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| She is surely one of a kind
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| And everyone thinks she is fine
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| But if you’d see inside her mind
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| You’ll never guess there what you’d find
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| A squandered soul maybe
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| And a bad memory of a banshee:
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| A recent event that happened under a bead tree
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| No one ever noticed that she lives in misery
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| But that’s the price of life when you’re accused of witchery
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| Far away from here is The garden of the Hesperides
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| And the Islands of the Blessed
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| And a blissful dreadfulness
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| If you never come back to me
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| I will end like Lady Jane Grey
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| Where were you when I needed you?
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| Someone who knows what I’m going through
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| Your evil bride still waits for you outside
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| If you don’t show off, she must leave you for awhile
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| There’s no forgiveness for all those who lie
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| And only emptiness for all the others who cry |