you sing me my favorite song
and your hands more firmly grip my neck
choke me until my face turns purple's deepest shade
throw me against that wall
{it's the way we make love}
that one with the gaping hole where you threw my head last week
{because i told you i was tired}
then a kick in the ribs
{because i told you i was sorry i'm not perfect}
and you drag my sagging body to the bed
{thump thump says my head as it meets the floor}
you carress my blood and tearstained face
{but i know it's not over}
and it's back to the beating
{it's the way we make love}
just a punch in the face
{i moan like i enjoy it}
and you're singing again
{you're singing me my favorite song to the tune of the death march}