This is the story of a girl
who sits in the dark room,
wondering what's to [bad word] of her
Her makeup is smeared
and blood fills her dark heart,
the addiction is slowly sinking in
With bloodshot eyes,
she starts hallucinating the track
marks fading from her arms

She's as white as the snowfall,
and she's clung to the ceiling.
It's almost Armageddon as she falls to the floor,
guilt straught affliction, [bad word] 

Emptiness, she feels the room spin,
somebody call a doctor
we need an ambulance
She smiles, one last goodbye
this girl cried so hard,
she's too far gone and for what
I cannot help her

Her lipstick is all we have
of what she left behind,
her lipstick is all we have
of what she hid behind

There on the floor highlighted
in red lied a girl
Her possession of immortal beauty
brought the sincerect form of irony
to this seemingly tragic display
of lust and love

It was black on black on black
and such a shame that she could not resist
keeping the only hint of red
strictly to her fingernails