She's dressing up like an angel,
with wings on the corners of her eyes
and a halo around her neck.
Glitter-glossed lips to lock in a smile,
tightly winding a dress around her hips;
she's dressing to forget.
There's nothing good about a girl who is sad.

And she's got a tremble in her fingertips,
her pulse pressing against her skin
as she stares at the creature in the mirror.
Two dull eyes with a sad silver lining,
and a broken blush upon her cheeks;
she's seeing things that aren't her.
There's nothing good about a girl who is sad.

And she exhales tired sighs,
with failed wishes and last minute hopes,
letting it all die away with the rest of herself.
Because her mother never taught her love,
and her father never showed her what's right;
only leaving her to fall into the dangers of the world.
*There's nothing good about a girl who is sad.