they call me mona lisa and compliment my smile i can't let them discover i'm dying all the while we went out for dinner and kissed under the stars "come home with me, mona lisa" as you pulled me into your car "no, please stop," i said but you paid me no mind my ripped clothes hit the ground to my words, you were blind you drove me home in the morning and the smile fell from my face we won’t speak of what happened and i'm left to live with disgrace mona lisa's gone, i'm sorry a wax figure as her stead i've got scars that don't bleed but isn't it all in my head? they say it gets better if i only give it time but how am i meant to forget when the headlines shout your crime? “you drank too much” they say “and your skirt’s just too short” anything they could think of to discredit me in court now i'm trying to stand up, move on but i'm trapped, unable to flee and they say not to touch the art but you put your hands on me