She paints a pretty picture but the story has a twist her paint brush is her razor and her canvas is her wrist.
She Paints a pretty picture
In a color thats blood red
While using her sharp paint brush, she finally ends up dead.
Her pretty pictures fading quite slowly on her arm,
The bloods not racing through her she can no longer do harm.
She Painted a Pretty Picture
but her picture had a twist you see her mind was her razor and her heart was her wrist.