On the snowy hills of mount regret, I can hear the icy winds whisper her name, every day. And as hard as I may try to block it out, the words cut through I feel so ashamed. She is my queen but in this story the king condemns his wife. She is my queen but in this story the king deserves to die! I journey to that night several times a day and think, if I had only, and my knees start to shake. I journey into madness and I don't know what to say anymore. So I scream if I had only, and my voice begins to break as I hit the floor. My wife died in my arms that night. My wife, my lover, dead in the car. My life is over, dead in my arms. Well can you feel this? A drink too soon serves as my fucking rifle. And I loaded the barrel with 151, god damn my soul. I can't do this. Please anybody, help me fucking end this. For tonight, I don't think that I can fucking do this. So please anybody. Help me fucking end this.
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