She paints a pretty picture
But her picture has a twist
Her paint brush is her razor
and her canvas is her wrist
She paints a pretty picture
In a color that is blood red.
While using her sharp paint brush..
She ends up finally dead.
Her pretty picture fading
quite slowly on her arm.
The blood is not racing through her.
She can no longer do harm.
She paints a pretty picture
but her picture had a twist.
You see, her mind was her razor
And her canvas, her wrist..
Her pretty picture is gone.
She holds a gun to her head.
Congradulations, Society...
She's finally dead..
