His heart was darker than the sky at night,
But deeper than the depths of Hell.
I don't know what made me trust this shaded Mr. Right,
And now that he's gone I guess I never will.
It could've been his strange violet eyes,
So full of mystery and pain.
My soul, for him, it cries
And I know I'll never be the same.
Though his touch was cold,
And his voice was mean.
His soul,to the Devil, it was sold,
But he never lost his sheen.
But now I am alone,
The cuts are bleeding deeper.
The day will come when it is know,
Just how feared is the Grim Reaper.
