The needle slips into the skin, commence her dance
Twirling in the camera lense, Let the trip begin
Chemicals bind to receptors, Her soul returns to its captors
Ready for the promised land, she slips in the tub
Razors in hand, not looking for a casual scrub
In her mind in her dress she spins, she sways
Left to pretend she can regress to the trends of the craze
Water fills over her eyes, brain locked in a daze

Her final dance begins with the slit of a wrist
What will be the final twist, when will it commence
Trance takes grip, the end nears of the dance
It falls here, alone and cold, calls cant reach
She made it to her retreat, after all the drains
This goodbye is needled through her veins.