All I do is cry for help

Greenlight, On a star-kissed highway. Not a soul in sight; In a rusty black Commodore, She sneaks into the night. Yellow light, yellow light. Headlights on the tarmac, She thinks of a time long left behind; But she knows there's no turning back. Red light. Scars and broken tissue, Skin marred with marks like broken stars, Her happy days too few. Black light. She calls my name; Her sighs ring through the forest, Shady banks, ghostly in the moonlight, Boughs knotted and tough, And she knows she's had enough. White light. She breaks through the clearing, Where her fated oak tree stands. Luminous, cold and welcoming; Overlooking her hometown, A threaded nose will understand. One step is all she needs, To mount the evening stand, To greet her eternal gallows at last, Because after all, she's done all she can. And all she needs is one last look, A fleeting glance at her home town's beauty. Then a kick of her legs and a snap of her neck, Before falling into obscurity. No light.