sick.

People like you
Make me sick
You walk around like
You're the king
Your conceited act don't mean a thing

Is that the way
To be a man?
Are you happy now?
Happy that you're "right"?
It's no wonder your children don't sleep at night

Real men
Are supposed to
Be the protectors
You are supposed to love your wife
But instead you take her life?

Who do you think you are
Some kind of god?
What does that solve?
You lack a concience and you lack a soul
Was life in prison really your goal?

And when you killed her
Did you think you'd get away?
You think charm could win them all over
And there you smile, and think all is well
I hope you burn in hell.