She paints a perfect picture,
She tells a flawless lie,
She sings a song of beauty,
A haunting lullaby.
Her lullaby will sooth you,
Her song will give you wings,
Her mournful voice will trap you,
Every time she sings.
Her song is one of sorrow,
A portrait of her life,
And those who hear are captured,
Haunted by her strife.
Her song will leave you crying,
She'll wipe away your tears,
But compassion is a falsehood,
Created over years.
Her song will penetrate you,
A knife straight through your heart,
The tune will plague your footsteps,
A seductive work of art.
Her song is one of anguish,
An image of your fate,
But you won't know her purpose,
Until it's far too late.
Her acid tears will burn you,
Her knives will slash your skin,
Her crimson blood will stain you,
Forgive you of your sin.
Her melody will slay you,
Her hymn will let you fly,
Her song is flawless sorrow,
Death's haunting lullaby.