Where is the conviction.
Of this furthest mystery.
Flowing through these empty veins.
And these eyes will never see.
He took the pills and drank the blood.
Of the one he slayed.
The throat he slit.
The neck he bit.
Of this part he played.
Death fills the place.
In which this sin was held.
He captured all the evidence.
That would leave him jailed.
Forgetting the blood.
On his shoes.
That left those awkward prints.
He left behind the trail to him.
And all his mystery sins.
FBI tracked him down.
But only to find.
The one they were looking for.
Wasn't here no more.
His soul had been bland.
His life had been slayed.
From the gun in his hand.
In the floor he laid.
He took his own life.
For guilt had his mind.
They figured this out.
But her they never did find.
She killed that guy.
Identity not her own.
Then made it seem.
How it was shown.
So she framed her ex.
And killed him that night.
To make the case closed.
It just felt right.
They cheated on her.
They couldn't cheat death.
For the two cheaters.
She got her money.
And it hadn't cost her a cent.