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Outside, it was miserable and rainy: A cold day in November. I held the photo against the lamp On a dark day in November. It was old, blurry and grainy, But enough to make me remember.  
I'm a fountain of blood in the shape of a girl that hoped one day that maybe she could be loved. You told me I was beautiful. You taught me to talk. You told me I was your princess,
Sleepy eyes, a heart indifferent to life A heart that is a slave to the light What lie of the face will I face? A beguilement of assorted grace   I reach for the hollowness with pain
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