My name is sadness, my name is sorrow.
I'll be hanged tomorrow for all of my madness.
To reap what I sow in my cell full of woe,
Her mother will smile with gladness.
Love locked away in an evidence room,
Where my heart lies forever entombed.
Concealed behind stone were all of my feelings,
For the apple of my eye so fresh and appealing.
But not as her groom did I find myself kneeling, in puddles of grief from basement to ceiling.
They bound my wrists and bind my heart,
Because I drew a weapon from my art.
A single arrow for cupid's bow.
In a single hope for her to know,
I could not stop myself from giving her my all, as I sit alone staring at the wall.
Guilty and convicted of my conviction.
But this broken heart was self inflicted.
