>>16721
>>16722

I admit, I enjoy the mixed reviews.

Lyrics are:

[Verse 1]
Sun comes up but it feels too late.
Bare feet on cold stone by gate.
Crowd's realy quiet, preacher won't pray,
talks to me like this's just a play.

My hands're bound but my back stays straight.
Cold rough wood, that's my final stage.
Whiskey box on which they'd me bound,
'cos my short legs won't reach the ground.

[Music boosts up]
They say: "stay still, it'll be quick and clean,"
But fear comes strong when you're just thirteen.
If this is justice, if this is law,
then why does my pulse sound like in war?

On the whiskey box, counting my breaths,
tip-toe between the living and death.
Kick off the box, break my neck,
cute-little song for my trembling legs.

[Chorus]
On the whiskey box, world will spin,
necklace made of rope and sin.
Kick it out, I'll dance for the crew,
let me die fast, like good girls do...

[Bridge]
When my body hangs up here,
let my end come fast like a dream.
Every verse, every stolen breath,
outruns the rope, prolongs the death.

[Verse 2]
Mother saw me off, no tears on her face,
told me I'll die because I'm such disgrace...
They took my name, they took my clothes
left me with this box and silent crowd.

The rope cuts sharp like a rusty saw.
If there's God, is he looking now?
Will my neck snap? Will it hurt?
I'll stay still like they said I should.

[Music boosts up]
They say: "stay still, it'll be quick and nice,"
Fitting end for child who stolen twice.
If you hum this short, sad tune someday,
remember the girl who stood here brave.

[short pause]

[Chorus]
Short scream and she's out of breath,
choking in the air, between life and death.
The strained neck, the sweat on chest,
cute-little girl with kicking legs.

No box here, the crowd don't cheer,
necklace made of rope and tears.
Small legs kick short dance for the crew,
Let her go quick, like bad girls do...

[short pause]

[Chorus]
The whiskey box, the dangling feet,
heartbeat stumbles, skips the beat.
Song runs quick, the air runs dry.
This is how bad girls go to die...

[Outro]
Whiskey box - no turning back,
Sky goes white, world goes black.
Play it fast, then let it stop...
Nothing lives past the whiskey box.

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Pasting exactly this text to ace-step 1.5 at 95 bpm prompt should generate roughly same style.