Black Widow
Little black widow dressed for death
Your beautiful grace is treacherous
Once caught he struggles, the unfortunate prey
You let him strangle himself where he lay
And when he can no longer fight
Your gentle arms embrace him tight
Oh, do you ever contemplate
While spinning the sticky thread of fate
Maybe by chance the stroke of a misplaced strand
You just might find yourself in rougher hands
And when you can no longer fight
My calloused grip will squeeze you tight
Your beautiful grace is treacherous
Once caught he struggles, the unfortunate prey
You let him strangle himself where he lay
And when he can no longer fight
Your gentle arms embrace him tight
Oh, do you ever contemplate
While spinning the sticky thread of fate
Maybe by chance the stroke of a misplaced strand
You just might find yourself in rougher hands
And when you can no longer fight
My calloused grip will squeeze you tight
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