As you're standing here, before me
In a white gown, with long train
Comes the moment I shall swear you
The eternal. So, I am
Vowing: I will disrespect you
I will hit you, I will lie
I will come late every Friday
Trace of lipstick on my tie
I'll abuse you and degrade you
Mine is power over bird
Constant fear and Stockholm syndrome
I will put you through such world
I will pass you to my buddies
During drunken fits of rage
I will sell your pretty body
Public whore for fifty cents
There'll be no cherubim toddlers
Cuddling tightly you to sleep
Boot to ground, or hanger sharply
Will rip through the bastard's deep
I will kill you, bitch, I promise
To devour mind and soul
Rotting corpse, Junko Furuta
Only you will suffer more
---
And you're probably wondering
Why such hatred, why such rage
How the blank slate of my lover
Came to be in such a state?
I assure you, there's no trauma
No repressed and buried pain
There's really no deep reason
Not a victim, just a man
See, the marriage is a process
Where your personhoods are lost
Where the egos, thrown together
Melt in furnace's blazing hot
And survival of the selfhood
Of the voice inside the head
- the spark animating body -
This requires fight - to death.