A dandy dancing damsel that flits upon a string floating o'er broken glass though knows the pain it brings The tiara on her head is crafted iron, bones and steel. She bares the weight like it's a cross and trusts her mind to heal.
Supported by string she shan't ever touch ground from morning's pliets to her last nightly bow. Her ballet's electric each step it a flame this dancer is hunting the audience, her prey. They pity her trials bound up and weighted. Not knowing the blood it will take to be sated.