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...