The tragic ballerina was a little too raw

Fallen from grace with shock and awe

Hung out to dry by the puppet master

Who made her dance faster and faster

Dance, little sister, dance all night long

There on your pedestal is where you belong

The monsters outside are no worse

Than those in your soul so perverse

If you believed just a little stronger

But, then again I could be all the wronger

To believe that strings might be broken

By true words of love cherished and spoken

Dance, little sister, dance through the night

There in the pale of the blood moon’s light