A pretty red dress,

That’s all I remember,

A pretty red dress

On A pretty girl,

A pretty red dress

On a pretty girl

During a lonely night,

yes that’s what I remember,

On a lonely night,

She drank

In her pretty red dress,

To drown the sorrow

To forget the bruises

That covered her skin,

She drank

To repress the memories,

Where was she going in that pretty red dress,

No one knew,

All that was known,

Is that she looked pretty

In that pretty red dress,

Her supple lips,

Painted red,

Just like her pretty red dress,

Her eyes blue,

like the marks born on her skin,

Held such passion, such pain,

Such life,

Like a fallen snow

After her sorrows were drowned,

After her memories were repressed,

After her bruises swirled drunk,

She was left alone on the corner,

In that pretty red dress,

While the stars gave audience

To her pretty sight,

They called to her,

Begging for an encore,

That was five years ago,

When I saw that pretty girl

In that pretty red dress

Standing alone on that corner

swaying back and forth

dancing to beat of her own heart

drunk in lust

lusting for comfort

that was never found,

No one remembers her face though,

or how she sounded,

No one remembers what she drank,

nor do they remember how she smelt,

because all that was found,

was her pretty red dress.