[h1][center]Pulling Teeth[/center][/h1]

She was walking home
In her silken clothes
Her long legs the only thing known
Keeping herself up, the raise of her nose
Why must she be walking in the shivering cold?
Her mouth is covered in foam
Her clothes tearing apart the more she roams
Her eyes, they were lost of its natural chrome
And her stomach felt like stone

She finally reached there, it wasn't home, but it was something
A man sat in the corner, a guitar his fingers were strumming
Then the nurse ran, her feet hunting
Hunting the ground, no more punching
The lights stood around, still humming
This was a rehab center, the woman's shoulders she kept hugging
Her depression left her as nothing
She still never knew the meaning of loving

As the nurse took the woman to her room
The clock still counted down the minutes of her doom
An injection would come soon
The woman won't open her eyes again, the flowers shall not bloom
She coughs more from the fumes
The dead bodies are still being left in their rooms

She's really in a hospital, the "funny farm" as they called it
But nothing was really funny about it, like an abusive lover wanting to commit

She'll have to submit to this, already not feeling alive
She hasn't been, she's always been dead but wanting to cry
Now, she'll live her beautiful life of lies