The bird of debauchery ate a part of your soul and came back to devour my heart. ( My grave is a den of Vice)

Speaking of your sorrow
I heard you let me down again
Pulling my heart out of my chest
For another ride down through the gates of a place called hell, where you reside, where you reside

Speaking of my sorrow
I heard you made your choice
Choosing a knight overnight over the ghost of a poet
You used to say : your heart is cold, you use your mind over your soul
My heart might have become cold, but your mind's between your legs

Speaking of my sorrow
Feels like I'm already dead
No friendly faces just looks full of pity
They'd like to rescue me, but I'm already done
Since you stole everything I used to hold, and even more, and even more 

You say you feel bad
Hurting me, putting me down
I say I can't decide, I don't have much choice but to carry on
Crows and vultures chasing me to make a sumptuous meal out of my dead body.

Please don't praise me cause I'm dead ,
Please don't praise me cause I fell
Please just praise me me cause I swear,
I swear if love was war, I'd be a martyr