broken

I don't want to hear your love songs,

I don't want to march in the love parade,

I don't want flowers, and candy, or perfume; I want to solve your murder ...

So I can finally be thanked.

I don't want to hear your apology,

At your eulogy; you will finally be praised.

Day to day 

And nightfall come

Every day

A frightful one 

Sounds off to everyone

And one day 

In a jail cell

You will finally be raped of your dignity

I solemnly swear to you bout these things

One day

You will finally break