this is the girl for whom all tears fall this is the girl who was having a ball just a dark smear masking the eyes spirited away buried in sighs this is the girl who crossed the line this is the song about smothering vine twisted a laurel to crown her head laid as a wreath upon her bed this is the girl this the blood that turned into wine this is the wine of the house it is said this is the girl who yearned to be heard so much for cradling a smoldering bird this is the girl this is the girl this is the girl for whom all tears fall this is the girl who was having a ball this is the laurel to crown her head this is the wine of the house it is said this the blood that turned into wine this is the wine of the house it is said this is the girl who cried to be heard so much for cradling a smothering bird this is the girl this is the girl1