Smote

Pleading with my senses to dismiss this myth
It's open-handedly strangling me and avails me to no end
Since the close of summer's come, and leaves begin to fall
Sounds of sin ring upon the wind, and you never, ever call

Underhanded love
You've throttled and you've jaded me
My mind's bent thinking of your lovers yet to be

I can hear you laughing, and I can't believe my lot
The emptiness is sinking in, and you're filling up my thoughts
My logic has abandoned me, and in its place, regret
I can only think of holding you, but I should surely wish you dead

And though I swear it seems
I've realized my worst fears
I should spurn your name, still, I only want you near

Won't you come and help me, rid me of this pain
Tie her up and doctor her under subtle veil of rain
Oh brew a brew, concoct a brew, and put her hate to sleep
And put her somewhere deep below where my secrets surely keep

Underhanded love
You've throttled and you've jaded me
My mind's bent thinking of your lovers yet to be