The pretty lady dies in sorrow,
She's left alone within her shell.
Her lips get dry, her eyes are hollow;
She rips her veins and slips to hell.

She cried all night, just like a mad dog,
Her tears have flooded all her world.
Her life has ended in a deadlock
With nothing but her broken hope.

She lived so long; she felt the glory.
The spotlight's heat burned out her soul.
She lived the scripts of many stories,
But her own life was bleak and cold.

Nobody ever soothed her feelings,
The anxious thoughts that spoiled her core.
She outlived her friends and siblings,
She could outlive a hundred more.

Her tired heart now beats much slower,
Her fears fade out like morning mist.
She's never been so clean and sober
As on a final night like this.