It's just one of those things
When you wish the story had played out another way...

There are two types of beauty
One is black, the other white...

If these wings are becoming of me,
with their familiar shade of black...

Is it for the blood or the passion
For the need or the lust that's within...

The bones that stain this meadow
make a sound so thin and sweet...

He captures me with haunted eyes
As the music fills the room...

The tears that fall from my fragile eyes
are all I have left...

They're awful,
These people that do these things...

I'll never understand why everyone has to leave,
Maybe I can just smile all the pain away...

Who sent you?
Was it God...

F**ck!
She clutches her arm...

The pulsing beat of the music hums, caressing each...
Standing in the middle of the crowd, she found her...