The whispering winds
are calling her name.

Voices in her head
are playing little games.

Evil grins are
hiding in the mirror.

Telling her to do it
tie it around her neck.

Jump off a chair
or jump off a ledge.

Either way you do it
you'll get the same effect.

Satan is winning
she's pulling it tight.

Her gorgeous dead face
in now a pretty blue.

Now she's in the air
hanging all for you.
 
Copyright © demented, All Rights Reserved