Pretty picture


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1. Pretty picture

She paints a pretty picture,

But the story has a twist,

Her paintbrush is a razor,

And her canvas is her wrist,

She paints her pretty picture,

In a colour that's blood red,

While using her sharp paintbrush,

She ends up finally dead,

Her pretty pictures finally fading,

Quite slowly on her arm,

The blood is no longer racing through her,

She can no longer do harm,

She painted her pretty picture,

But her picture has a twist,

Her mind was a razor,

And her heart was the wrist.

 

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