I wrap my hands around her waist
The scent of her, give me a bitter-sweet taste
She's like a ripe fruit hanging from a tree
But I can't get her, for she isn't free.
She struggle from my grip trying to flee
We're once a lover, so let me be.
Her tears start falling from her eyes
That's better, than making her happy with lies.
I love her, I don't want her to leave
Ask me anything, I'm willing to give.
Let me be a criminal and a sinner at the same time
For loving her is like a crime.
Yet, she said she'd better die than be with me
So I stab her back while facing me.
Should I call this as "our love story?"
Or erase the love, and just "our story?"