The Bride

My blood dried before I cried Morbidly, too easily 'Cause my favorite story's the one that's gory I wonder if that's all right Forget the flowers and love encounters The bride's revenge makes so much more sense Dragging my feet 'cause I'm too weak Caught a cold and thought I was for sure dying It's eighty-eight weeks, and I was too free Trying to kill the cold that married me All alone, all I own All alone, all I own All alone, all I own All alone, all I own All alone, all I own All alone, all I own All alone, all I own All alone, all I own All alone, all I own All alone, all I own All alone, all I own All alone, all I own All alone My eyes dried before I died All alone, all I own All alone, all I own All alone, all I own All alone, all I own All alone, all I own All alone, all I own All alone, all I own (take my anger) All alone, all I own All alone, all I own All alone, all I own (leave me on my own) All alone, all I own All alone, all I own All alone My blood dried before I cried