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...