| She wore the scars her perfect pale skin raised
|
| And now she’s fallen in love and depraved
|
| Her body’s bent and bruised in a voice that praised
|
| I’ve fallen in love with a slave
|
| I’ve fallen in love with a slave
|
| She loves her knife play
|
| And she’s not alone
|
| He loves her knife play
|
| And she’s not alone
|
| Not alone
|
| She felt alive in a prefect world of sin
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| Now she’s volunteered all of her soul
|
| She felt the blade pressed in
|
| Felt their cold still wind
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| Her heartbeat control
|
| She’s volunteered all of her soul
|
| She loves her knife play
|
| And she’s not alone
|
| She loves her knife play
|
| And she’s not alone
|
| Not alone
|
| She loves her knife play
|
| And she’s not alone
|
| She’s not alone |