I asked my love to hold my hand.
My love was not afraid.
I heard the steady pattering sound
His stoutly true heart made.
I gave my love a gentle kiss.
I whispered in his ear.
He clung steadfastly to my wrist
And bent his head to hear.
They said my love would never come.
They said he’d wander far.
They knew not what they prattled of,
What fools these people are.
My lover dug my coffin up,
Removed the garlic wreath
And watched me rising from the dust
And watched me lick my teeth.
My lover was a tasty bite,
A virile bit of gore.
He had a ring of tiny scars,
He’d known vampires before!