Long, dark locks frame a pale face. She pulls her stockings up past her knees— An undying commitment to blood and lace.
Here she wields a heavy mace In fantasies of revenge. Long, dark locks frame a pale face.
She is the victim in an impossible race, Never as beautiful and she desires; An undying commitment to blood and lace.
They came and left without a trace, Oh! Those murderers so cruel! Long, dark locks frame a pale face.
Kissing at the makeup running down her face. She submits to the pain. An undying commitment to blood and lace.
She keeps a single flower in a cracked old vase, The one memory that never seems to fade. Long, dark locks frame a pale face: An undying commitment to blood and lace.
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