The Number Twelve Looks Like You
Don’t Get Blood on My Prada Shoes
Cringing at the sight, flawless face dragged
Eyelids ruptured with twisted nails

I giggled, kissing my fingers
Type C and saliva bubbling
Kissing my fingers

Find an easier way dying
Before you get murdered
Find an easier way dying
Before you get murdered

Type C and saliva bubbling
Kissing my fingers
The floor boards will never hold the same finish