The last time you damned my tomb, in a luscious tipsy lure My bones, you roused them all, shook the grave and the moor I've been dying a death every day, yet not out of tears Did you know the dead could die? Neither did I, it so appears Each time you slept with others, it made my tombstone itch Hence I'm alive now, I'm going to get you, bitch! Even you sleep on pillows, those filled with peacock feathers You're dead but just mine now, and it's all that matters...