She paints a pretty picture but the story has a twist

Her pait brush is a razor and her canvis is her wrist

She piants a pretty picture in the color blood red

Useing  her sharp paintbrush until she finaly ends up dead

Her pretty pictures fading quiet slowly on her arm

The blood not running through her she can no longer do any harm

She painted a pretty picture but her picture had a twist

Her mind was her razor and her heart was her wrist