She paints a pretty picture but the story has a twist.
The paintbrush is a razor and the canvas is her wrist.
She paints a pretty picture in a color that's blood red.
While using her sharp paintbrush she ends up finally dead.
Her pretty picture's fading, she can no longer do harm.
Blood is no longer racing through her, she can no longer do harm.
She painted a pretty picture but the story had a twist.
Her brain was a razor and her heart was her wrist.
