Read
Please..
She paints a
pretty picture, But the picture has a twist, You see, the
paintbrush is a razor, And the canvas is her wrists, She paints her
pretty picture, In a color that's blood red, While using her
sharp paintbrush, She ends up finally dead. Her pretty pictures
fading, Quite slowly on her arm. The blood is not racing through
her, She can no longer do harm. She painted her pretty picture But
her picture had a twist. You see, the razor was her mind, And her
heart was just her wrists