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Runaway girl with your broken comb,
voices in your head want you to go home.
The cemetery gates are open wide,
these souls of the dead are pulling you inside.
There's no turning back,
from the fate that is in store.
With the feelings that you lack,
your heart is just a sore.
You p***k your flesh with a thorny rose,
and watch the blood trickle down your toes.
You're shaking and wet,
sopping with your sweat.
Your dog followed you here,
what a loyal pet.
Runaway girl with the thinning hair,
it feels like straw in the dirty air.
Lie in your bed, that hole in the ground.
See the flowers I picked and found?