The red velvet draped over the bed frame,
I'm here pretending like its a game,
The silk sheets feel soft aganst my palm,
I try to listen to my thoughts but there gone,
I see the draw where I stashed the blade,
I think of the gem installed in the handle the shimmering green jade,
The silver knife I plan to use tonight,
In preparation I turn down the lights,
It's all a shame I think to myself,
Whilst looking at the photos of her on my shelf,
I think of my poor naive lover,
And what she's about to discover,
Here for a night of passion,
Is murder still in fashion?
