Voilá! This labyrinth need no spiritueux to scare
These boulevards are paved with bones and blood
Chic or dull alike each have welcome, if they dare
But you, “mon ami”, lack this luxury:
Dragged from your soirée,
Down through the mud,
For a grievous gaffe:
Murder
It’s louche, my revenge;
Even worse: cliché!
Your fate is now bound
You splash, and fight milky, lavender waters
Hear the dead, “mon ami”? They’re grasping their share
You scream and you beg, but I will not renege
Never again will you hurt my daughters

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