I want to paint a picture
A picture with a twist
I'll paint it with a sharpend knife
Right across my wrist
And from my wretched body
The bloody reds will flow
Along with it the pain and hurt
I guess you'll never know
Then the blues are formed 
From the flood of tears I cry
And the painted pastel mess
Is a record of my crimes
So now Ive painted my picture
The one that had a twist
I used a sharpend knife
Slashed twice across each wrist
So now the blood flows freely 
As you knew it would
I only did this cause
You never understood.