She wakes up every morning and gets ready for school
Projecting pictures of a different world…. in which she’s considered to be cool.
She faces the mirror, staring and mocking, like some kids she knows so well
Her hair is nails and the comb is a hammer, trying to keep them down is really a hell.
She puts on her black bow that reminds her herself….trying to hide her soul from their contemporary malicious glare…
Remains of a time and age in which were freedom and wealth.
But in a world that considers her strange, there’s nothing left for her … right?
She waits to throw away her mask and proceed in the temple of night….
To the world she’s just a little girl
To the kids she’s just strange….
To her parents just a loyal dog, held by a barb-wire lace.
But she’s a coin and both sides are coal, in a conventional life she’s a simple rock...
She didn’t learn the mock before the talk…
So she’s diamond dust and ruby spit. Like the drops of blood on her wrists every week.
Oh yeah! She’s sensitive but she’s forced to play dead, on her pale face no expression for a friend, but a fake smile….see the living lie….a living lie.
Like a vampire she awakes when there’s no one around.
Makes her hair look like a garden of thorns, never hit the ground…
Dressed in black she locks the door and leaves in the middle of the night…
Hunted by her guilt and the talons of fright….she doesn’t cry…now she won’t lie.
Like a countess she now steps inside, stained by the forces of the things she must hide
She’s a flower ready to bloom….but withers under the weight of gloom
To the world she’s not there, just another emo freak who likes to have crazy hair.
To the kids she’s just a stranger…because they can’t recognize her like this.

But to her parents she’s still an ugly bitch who will never even get her very first kiss….
Nobody will save her from her life, not her father, not his wife. Not more shrinks, god please not them again, eager to help, drown them in cash...
Oh! Not again… not again… these stupid pills are kicking her ass
Drowned in sorrow, the world equals a big hollow
Is it her clothes or is it her hair. Too much pain to share…
Misery mistress, daughter of despair…..she was not depressed…not until she became somebody else.
You can disguise a worm into a butterfly, but you will never teach it to fly.
You can’t tame her neither fool her…she is not a land so you can’t just go and rule her.
She can play doggie but she’s still a hellhound
She can play carefree but she’s still forever bound.

Each coin has only two sides can close your ears but you can’t stop her cries. Evil hides, evil lies….
She’s made of ruby spit and diamond dust, both sides of her coin turn easily to rust.....She’s a butterfly forced to play worm….she cannot dare neither spare She’s who she is…..but she’s still a little girl.