The bride so beautiful,

dressed in white.

She must be so tired,

she danced all night.

 

Her husband who loves her,

he’ll always care.

As across the room,

he caresses her there.

 

For better, or for worse.

For richer, or for poor.

We throw the rice,

as they close the door.

 

They must be so happy,

going on their honeymoon.

We wave goodbye,

hoping they come back soon.

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I hold my dad’s arm,

as we walk down the aisle.

All the way there,

I fake a smile.

 

I dance with my husband,

what I have to do my whole life.

Now I have to live with him,

as he calls me his wife.

 

People throw rice,

as we close the door.

Nobody knows the times he’s

hit me before.

 

Getting beat to a pulp,

getting hit in the head.

He doesn’t even love me,

he wants me dead.