You wrote a few lines of love To these widows who need promises Your bald head and your beard Have dropped far more than a price of virtue Too bad, they believed you All women under your roof burned for you You charmed her, after a date And in the house of horror, they rest You stole a few pennies from her And the game can start over In this house with a foul smell You put her in confidence Too bad, they believed you All woman under your roof burned for you First the chloroform battle Pulse slowed Then you slice "Vous parlez toujours de ma tête. Je regrette de n'en avoir pas plusieurs à vous offrir" You saw the limbs and the head You dismembered everything she was And in your preheated oven She burns She burns. Until ashes