My boudoir

Where our love died

There are ghosts of you all over

Ghosts of you in my dreams

On the bedsheets stains I'll never wash

The blue shirt I'll never wear

On the stained walls and headrest

In my thoughts and mumbles

On my tongue, the times I've monologues

Monologues of me on my knees

Begging for a tenth chance

There are ghosts of you in my pains

Ghosts, angry ghosts in my self-loathing

Ghosts of your strength of mind

Ghosts of your strong head

Ghosts of your appetite for revenge

And for this I offer my heart on a plate

With a sledgehammer and a vice

Crash it please till I can love you no more

Till the ghosts of you flee my boudoir