This Girl she hides behind closed doors.
Hopeing no one will see the scars...
I loved him once
i love him still...
His wrists are slashed,
Hers are too...
Try as i might
I cant believe...
I sit here and think of u. my arm is bruised from...
i cant tell a soul, how much i care, i was dissed...
Your mother asked your dad for help
she got a son, so lovely and sweet...
His wrists are slashed,
Hers are too...
Should I tell?
Should I run to him...
If I havent been hurt,
And I havent been bruised...
I see those slashes on your arm,
And now you too have fallen to the razors charms...
Fake Blood,
Real blood...