She slices through the cake with great enthusiasm,
Unaware, she slices through me as well.
She decided today was a day
Today is my least favorite day of the year.
My second wife stands in the kitchen,
My first wife stays in her grave.
She proudly places the cake in front of me.
I often think that my first wife was an angel.
I often think that the second wife is a hyena.
Scrounging all she can out of me,
And laughing while she does it.
This is the silver anniversary,
Of the day I lost my angel forever;
As the hyena wife brings in
A silver cake, to celebrate,
The day I had to start;
A new life,
With a new wife,
And a broken heart.