Switchblade Romance Rewrite

A tale is told, of lovers bold, under a bloodshed sky
   True artists, they'd part us, heartless, in a sense
They'd tour the towns, walk the grounds after playing all night
   Retire to the motel, kiss and sell, their souls, then make amends
'Cause they'd sneak back out, and run about, with switchblade in their hands
   Streetlamps over bass amps would make their fantasies
They'd ask for a light, you reach down and then
   SLICE!
Your hearts in a can
   So don't look down, or you'll be on the ground, your soul with the band
And after the kills, fully thrilled, they found their destiny
   On velvet and satin they made their heaven, a sea of purple shimmer
He tossed, she turned, for her he yearned, but how strange...
   Did she return those feelings? For her arms were to the ceiling
      And he thought
         He caught
      A glimmer...
Was this love false? Like his pulse, her arms swiftly dropped
   Into his flesh...
Switchblade enhanced, their old romance was quickly cropped
   His heart now a bloody mess
Painted red, carved 'til dead, with switchblade dug 'to his head
   She looked on, past her pawn, and she quietly said this:
"I have never loved more than I love you now, now that you are dead."
   Then she bent down, slit her gown, laid on him a kiss
And into her, into the burn, switchblade slowly slipped
   "Hang on hon, I'm comin' for ya."

                                                                                                                   The End