The first scratch needs a patch
The second cut on her pail wrist draws the blood
The third gash in her right wrist needs a stitch
As the sharp ridges cross her ghostly pail skin
She feels all her sins drip away with the crimson from her veins
Soon she thinks what have I done after the process has already begun
All her dreams all of her thoughts of suicide
Are finally realized
When she let's her blood drip on the floor
Soon she will be....
NO MORE!
