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