and she whispered something
cigarette in hand, and 'accidentally' dropped it
just to burn her skin
So she could feel something
something more then pain
some burning sensation, to wash it away

and her gentle skin bears the scars
of nights she slashed more then her arms
she sang some pathetic song
so people would turn her away
then so they would leave, a swig of cheap champagne

laying in the gutter, vomit down her side
and she just thinks, 'how am i still alive'
fiftly-million pills and a pocket full of knives
our little angel survived another night

and just so shes not hungover
she'll drown another flask
we stare and wonder how long this high will last
got no feelings, except desperation
desperation for more lacerations

she was our little angel
long before the first joint
with a couple of boys from middle school
who thought she was 'alright'
and they got her high
higher then the sky
but she never really came down

everybody's little angel
her wings cut to the bone
our little princess is destined to be alone
and she'll carve another wish
along her scathed wrist
a wish to be dead
a wish to not exist.