She sits in her room staring at the wall,
She contemplates how they lost sight of it all.
Once in love, full of laughter and life,
She closes her eyes, attempting to blink it out the last fight.
Remembering the kissing and when they made love,
How she'd rub her hand across his five o' clock stub.
How he screamed he loved her on a stormy night,
Then they went home and he thundered between her thighs.
What happened to them, why did they fall apart?
The fire of love is truly a lost art.
