She paints a pretty picture
But this picture has a twist
You see the paint brush is a razor
And the canvass is her wrist.
She paints a pretty picture
In a color that's blood Red.
While using her sharp paint brush,
She finally ends up dead.
Her pretty pictures fading quite slowly on her arms
The blood's not racing through her.
She can no longer do harm.
She painted a pretty picture
But her picture had a twist.
With her Sharp, Sharp razor
And her pretty Canvass wrists.
You see, her mind was the razor
And her heart was her wrists.
