The stretch pulls up to the curb,
And the valet opens the door.
A tanned, high heeled foot steps out
And the crowds begin to roar.

She's blinded by the flashing lights,
She's screaming in her head,
And at the peak of her confusion,
Decides to smile instead.

She chats with people through the night,
Sips drink after drink
Which an upset stomach later
Vomits in the sink.

Her tired, sweaty reflection shouts,
Chanting insults and regrets.
Pressing a bottle of cheap wine to her lips,
She drinks 'till she forgets.

Dizzy and woozy, knife in hand,
Her tears begin to swell,
And she swiftly adds another scar
To those she hides so well.

In the overwhelming silence of her room,
Blindly stumbling about,
The world around her fading fast
Until she finally blacks out.

Extra! Extra!
The rumors are true!
Found dead amongst pieces of broken glass,
Her body bruised black and blue.

During breakfast time across the world,
Through the clinking plates and sizzling pans,
A quick glance at the newspaper
Produces gasps among her fans.

Cries of how and why and what
Are heard throughout the globe,
As mobs of angry people,
Cause turmoil on every road.

All kinds of rumors went 'round,
Of drugs and depression, too.
But none of these theories
Were exact or entirely true.

Something different killed her
As she lay beside her bed,
The place where, in the end,
Where her final breath was shed.

The real cause of her demise,
Why she fell into a rut,
Was the day all her problems began,
And the day she began to cut.