In the tub the water's runnin', gotta make it clean.
She feels the edge, drops her dress to the floor.
She settles in, so pretty, but there're holes in her drawers,
and she cries a little, sees the scabs on her arm.
But she won't go back, not there, this is better though mean.
She stands, on the razors edge, and hesitates.
Pain, she cannot stand, and it's really just too much.
and her hair's a mess, so she combs it out with a shaky hand,
She sits down, but quick again she stands,
and with a lip-gloss leaves a mirrored note,
to a man she loves but cannot stand his touch.
And a red scratch shows where the razors edge, it hesitates.
She's gone when I come home.
No red, just white for me,
but her way I cannot see
I make the calls, and fall,
and wish I weren't alone.
and on the razors edge, I hesitate...