There was a broken heart, in a broken girl. She was a broken record, with little broken pearls. She lived in a broken home, she had a little broken dome. She loved her little broken cat, and that was the only thing she loved.
She would sleep all day and stay up all night, no one was there to love her so she was built with fright. The sorrow all around her, was all that she had grown to know. She would rip off dolls heads and then sit there and sew.
Then around her became darker, she was now not afraid of a knife. She took it out, and crept over in the dark dark cold, to kill her neighbors wife.
She sat there with blood on her palms, into broken teams. She became her normal self agian, and believed in her broken dreams.