“Is nothing sacred?” she asked on her knees.
“Nothing but taxes,” then gave a slight squeeze.
Calm, cool, collected, he left with his gun–
Only facts and no feelings about what he’d done:
Leaving his wife on the cold chapel floor,
Dead as a doorknob in a locked and chained door.
“Be happy,” he said laughing, “it’s just you and me!
Old Annie’s in heaven, but we’re both right here–
Oh, kiss me Serena, for I’ve set us free!”
Oh how I despised him and felt full of fear–
Deny him? He’d kill me. I obeyed his decree.