On a path where our two souls meet
These rocks are hot beneath our feet.
Our skipping looks happy to the sane
But, under a tree, a man with a cane.
He chuckles and whispers to the blissful people who partake
On the two soul's happiness for happiness sake.
On a path where our two souls met
That same old man called in the sane to place their bets.
His cane was a gun, and with a single shot,
Your blood was spilled, red and hot.
And as the old man counted his money
He turned to me and said, "Your girl is dead, honey."
His cane was a gun and my hope was a knife
With one last slice I took my own life.
On a path where our two souls