Music box tinkles her marionette song,
Porcelian doll strings pull her along,
Each moment controlled and precise,
A plan like clockwork she will device,
Her master's hands tighten their grip,
Cord sliced fingertips,
Baring flesh and bone,
Tugging her back to where no daylight shone,
Lifeless, in her box she waits,
To dance her escape,
Bling Ting-A-Ling Bling...
The music begins,
Will she be forgiven her sins?
Echoes of the music box plays,
Triumphant she sways,
Blood splattered walls,
No more strings for this porcelian doll.
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