It's Just a Little Thing
She stood by the door leg bent
Her hair was let down loose
Her morals where locked up
and her smile was evilly divine
She took out a silvery blade
Lit a cigarette and laughed
A highball at the bedside table
and a little gasoline on the bed
The fire it roared and crackled
as did the whiskey inside me
and her body across my side
and the knife inside my hand
The red warmth invigorated
As she lay in my steady hands
and she closed her lovely eyes
to take tomorrows nap everyday
The scoundrels die most beautifully
and revenge is a dish best served
with a slice of meat and fire water
to keep ones stomach steady and full
and so I killed my whorish woman
and dumped her body in his bed
I lit a smoke and sparkled some gas
and burned her corpse in his home
So let us take a drink and celebrate
the deaths foretold by the scholars
and the lives forgotten by the public
and the stories remember by the old
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