Black veil lady

In front of the mirror, I stood still.
In an all black dress, I succumbed against my will.
Ago its white veil now its black veil lady.
Though from this dark shines my beauty.

I neither like nor hate black or white.
Yet is it necessary to pick for the rite?
He withered, he’ll never care, his six feet under.
I’m widowed, I’m freed, I will not matter.

But should I grieve? Or should I rejoice
In front of the coffin of their choice?
He knew nothing of what they’re saying.
They knew nothing of his past living.

I hate how he didn’t cheat, but I would like to.
I hate how he looked good but I would love to.
I knew he was too good to be true.
They think he was not though.

They should be thankful I told no tale,
About this deadman’s living grave.
He easily puts on his halo to go,
Not knowing I saw him through and through.

There eyes of disappointment falls on me,
As if I’ve done something gnarly.
Have they guessed my tears were joy?
Or they see nothing of me, weeping in splendor?

Should I cause a fit during this black parade,
Just because I’m the black veil lady?
They really enjoyed this little charade
From the very start of that afterparty.

No one can really guess the rotten fruits,
Blended in the jam for the sweeth tooth.
Obviously, it's the big bad wolf,
Yet they still call it the sheep with great wool.