She wore the scars her perfect pale skin raised and now she's fallen in love and depraved. Her body's bent and bruised in a voice that praised, I've fallen in love with a slave. I've fallen in love with a slave. She loves her knife play, and she's not alone. She loves her knife play, and she's not alone. Not alone. She felt alive in a prefect world of sin, now she's volunteered all of her soul. She felt the blade pressed in, felt their cold still wind. Her heartbeat control. She's Volunteered all of her soul. She loves her knife play, and she's not alone. She loves her knife play, and she's not alone. Not alone. She loves her knife play, and she's not alone. She's not alone.