She paints a pretty picture but the story has a twist. Her paint brush is a razor
And her Canvas is her wrist, she paints her pretty picture in the colour thats blood red
while using her sharp paint brush she ends up finally dead her pretty pictures fading.
Quite slowly on her arm the blood is not racing through her she can no longer do harm.
she painted her pretty picture but her pretty picture but her picture had a twist you see her mind was her razor.
and her heart was her wrist.