You'll Be the Death of Me

You’ll Be the Death of Me

by M. F. B. Porter

I knew when I saw his ghostly white blonde hair

That he would be the death of me.

His effervescent skin

His charm and debonair

I had to have him no matter the cost

Whatever it took

No matter lives lost

I knew when I saw his devilish grin

That he would be the death of me.

That he was the prize

And I had to win

Whatever the price I had to pay,

I’d pay it gladly

I would find a way

Just to see him again, for him to be near

It would be the death of me.

I lost myself

And didn’t see clear

That he was just a phantom of what he could’ve been

A shadow, a shade of

What he’d given in trade

But the devil had tricked him for the last time

And it was the death of him.

All there was left

Is this lonely rhyme.