There is a sorry for his suffering
It grips him follows him

Through the streets of London

For without her
He is without god

You have to understand
I'm jealous of everything that moves

With obsession he takes her hand

There is a sorrow to his suffering
Through the streets of London

Detached from the banality of men
Who dwell in lesser ideals
Evoking s sense of her
Forming a diary of hate

You have to understand
I'm jealous of everything that moves

With desire
Encapsulates her

She deceived as much as she loved
But with just her step
He forgives

He wanted her for a lifetime
Left only with his hatred
No longer does He suffer
Residing deep within her
Yet when parted reduced to a nihilist

With obsession
He takes her hand

With desire
Encapsulates her

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