Never have I seen a pretty lady
In a dark haven, oh Anastacia.
Her standards glistened glamorously
In a blackened light, like Margarita.
A predator like me chasing her feet,
Feet of the hopeless prey, Anastacia.
Her value is immeasurably neat,
Witnessed the death of my Margarita.
I can hear her harshly hoarse from her nose
Crying, begging like a worthless woman.
Plucked her fingers like petals of a rose,
Shouting in pain, like a certain someone.
This scent of mystery still lingers
As the two swam in the rapid rivers.
