Оригинален текст
This bastard has come to claim his throne,
As king of picking on the wrong
The blade in his hand might scare you to death,
If the stink doesn't kill you first
Your silvery hair & heart of gold, is too big a prize to resist
So open your mouth, & knock back that final bitter pill
& wait until
It all goes still,
It all goes quiet & oh so still
His big black kiss comes better never, than early like this
But he keeps the score & time is just not on your side anymore
But I've taken your picture & a piece of your soul,
So nostalgia will beat him & win in the end
When all is still,
When all I quiet & oh so still
& there's a dark empty hole, the thought of you will fill