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Paint
Statues sit, in silver-velvet armchairs
Still as death with complexions just like glass
In a silken dress a child stands in the corridor
In a house filled with gold, marble, and brass
Little child wades through a sea of cardboard cutouts
Porcelain dolls wait at a table for their tea to be poured
As she floats towards them, she doesn't make a sound
A dinner party set up beneath a thousand hanging swords
Cover the walls in baby blue paint
You're tired of hiding the pain away
Tired of living in this broken fairytail place
Lock the door and close the shutters
The house is on fire grab your daughters
While you let every silken curtain burn away
And you let every crimson memory fade to gray
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