She wasn't born in that brothel I'm told
Well aware of where she was
Well aware of where she'd end up in what position
Dressed in red down on her knees
She'd done this sort of thing before
Choking back on this disease dressed to kill

To die for
To die for
To die for
To die for

Her pretty face hides the demons inside
The kind that haunt her in her sleep
She was found face down in that ditch
Her skirt hiked up
Dressed in red down on her knees
She'd done this sort of thing before

Make up chases the tears down her face
The hand prints left on her throat
He hits her she'd ask for more
He hits her she'd ask for

Just, a little s___
She lost, a little s___
She lost, a little s___
She lost

Her pretty face hides the demons inside
The kind that haunt her in her sleep
She was found face down in that ditch
Her skirt hiked up

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