Miss Ruseberry Rouge

I might as well
stop posing as an artisan
I've painted myself into a corner again
Fell for your trick and you drag me in
the torture chamber
you make your love within
You could call it a kill
if I wasn't willing
The sound of your electronic voice
so thrilling
Your sharpened teeth are like razorblades
Slicing my skin,
unveiling my veins
Get carried away and cut the main cables
Because after today the grave is my cradle
I won't leave you alone
You won't undo the hooks