Her whispers are shadows that dance cross your wall,
Her window-glass eyes take in nothing at all.
Her sweet smile deceives while her strong hands they shake,
A shallow personality she doesn't have to fake.

No anger for blinders no joy to relieve,
The sway of her hips leave no need to believe.
A life like a snowflake is all she can take,
Fake make fake.

You let her go now she dances alone,
Her face and her heart have withered to stone.
Addictions her mistress, feelings her need,
Sign scattered memories you payed no head.