She was always at home, never out with her friends

They said shes probably at home watching tv again

But nothing was ever wrong

Her jeans starting looking too short

And her hair was getting too long

But nothing was ever wrong

She went to bed early, finding solace in the sheets

Praying no one would learn of the secret she keeps

But nothing was ever wrong

She slit her wrists to cope with her pain

Quietly dying like it was all just the same

But nothing was ever wrong

Maybe something was wrong.