I know a girl
She was an artist
Always had a thrill
And tried her hardest
Her type of art was special
She didn't use paper or pen
For it counting was quite essential
5,6,7,8 but never to ten.
This art was her release
An escape from the names
It always gave her peace
And left her body in flames.
But sometimes it wasn't enough.
She'd say "Just one more time"
The metal helped when it was rough
"It wasn't a crime"
Then the names got worse
She got a rope,a knife, a gun
"No one will feel remorse"
"But how shall it be done?"
She went to be an artist one more time
The decision was still tough
She chose to hang a noose
In the end, the music was not enough.
