Until Death

by Bitter Irony

We always knew it had to end

and we would have to choose

when stormwinds blow, to break or bend,

to win alone or lose,

But I wish we’d known this from the start,

before we'd paid our dues,

And when we said, “Death do us part”,

I wish we’d mentioned whose.

--

We might have weathered many storms,

but you destroyed that chance,

For beauty--in her sordid forms--

had turned your eye askance.

Instead of death, you chose a whore

to bury our romance.

Now she, the one that you adore,

has made her last advance.

--

There’s something in the air tonight:

the smell of her perfume.

The snow falls heavy, soft and white;

outside, the shadows loom;

Inside, we lay--alone and cold--

as thoughts of her consume.

The stars will shine their fragile gold

down on her marble tomb.

--

But if I thought her death would bring

you back to my embrace,

Then I was wrong--on everything--

I never can replace

this woman that you loved the most

(so much to my disgrace).

I guess I’m jealous of a ghost

who’s left her icy trace.

--

I know that you still miss her--

I can see it in your eyes.

And I know you want to kiss her

when our kisses seem like lies.

I feel the hate in your caress

when thoughts of her arise.

To think, the death that parted us

would not be our demise!

--

There’s something in the air tonight:

the smell of her perfume.

The snow falls heavy, soft and white;

outside, the shadows loom;

Inside, we lay--alone and cold--

as thoughts of her consume.

The stars will shine their fragile gold

down on her marble tomb.

--

You say to count my blessings;

I can’t help but wonder why,

When through all our second-guessing,

you’ve done nothing but deny.

Can’t you see she’s torn us far apart?

Why can’t you hear me cry?

I’m dying of a broken heart,

and you just watch me die.

--

I’ve got something you have to hear,

so listen to me well:

Stop preying on this foolish fear

you should have tried to quell.

I want to say I’m leaving

and I bid you now farewell.

Tomorrow you’ll be grieving

when they ring my funeral bell.

--

There’s something in the air tonight:

the heavy taste of doom.

The snow falls gently, soft and white;

outside, the shadows loom;

Inside, you lay--alone and cold--

as thoughts of me consume.

The stars still shine their fragile gold

on my cold, marble tomb.