Bloody ballerina, scrubbing at the stains that won't fade,
Tattered silk of your dress isan odd shade of gray
Bodice ripped and torn down, shredded strips of your dress decay,
Spinning round and round, velvet lands on the ground with the delicate steps you take
Ballerina, those two perfect slits on your wrists are bleeding
Ballerina, wound you up with an old rusty key in your back
Do a pretty pirouhette for me,
Slit lips make you smile so pretty
Satin cinch your waist in tightly
And I've watched your brillance fade, cheecks dulled and cracked with age
Old gears still an-i-mate, make you dance with a stilted grace
Peice by peice has been replaced, porcelain now twigs and string
Watch the light shine through the lace, worn thin with years of dancing