Pandora,
I'd recommend turning the first 8 lines into two separate verses, then also creating a chorus out of five of the latter lines, plus a bridge out of 4 other lines (like I suggest below) or some other similar variation.
I've also added a few grammar corrections and slight wording changes that I'd recommend.
I hope this will give you some more ideas on what you might like to do with your song as you create it!
Cutter's Lullaby (variation)
Go to sleep and close your eyes
And dream of broken butterflies.
They've torn their wings against a thorn.
You know the pain that they endured.
Hushabye, baby, you're almost dead,
Your pulse is weak, your pillow is red.
Your friends let you bleed.
They let you bleed.
Sleep tight with a knife.
It's all you need.
Silver metal shines so bright
by scarlet blood that feels so right.
Dream of that blood trickling down,
And wake up just before you drown.
Hushabye, baby, you're almost dead,
Your pulse is weak, your pillow is red.
Your friends let you bleed.
They let you bleed.
Sleep tight with a knife.
It's all you need.
The moonlight's shining off your tears
As you bleed out your worst fears.
So tonight when you begin to cry,
Whisper the cutter's lullaby:
Hushabye, baby, you're almost dead,
You don't have a pulse and your pillow is red.
Your friends let you bleed.
They let you bleed.
Sleep tight with a knife.
It's all you need.
Rockabye, baby, broken and scarred,
You didn't know life would be this hard.
End the pain you hid so well.
And down you'll come, baby,
Straight back to hell!
* * *
Your song topic reminds that I had a friend in graduate school who was a "cutter." She showed me her wounds that she made on her upper legs where no one could see them. She held the wounds together with butterfuly band-aids.
I felt for my friend very much. She was such a lovely and smart young woman, and it pained me to know she felt such stress that it led to her trying to relieve it and feel control but cutting herself.
I felt simultaneously honored that she disclosed her secret to me, because it can be very hard to admit one's distress gets so high and that one has turned to a harmful way of coping.
__________________
Quote:
Originally Posted by Neapolitan:
If a chicken was smart enough to be able to speak English and run in a geometric pattern, then I think it should be smart enough to dial 911 (999) before getting the axe, and scream to the operator, "Something must be done! Something must be done!"
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Last edited by VEGANGELICA; 06-05-2015 at 10:53 PM.
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