In the mirror, she stares in dismay
could it really be that she looks this way?
she wishes her body would fit the mold
if only our hearts weren't so fucking cold
he'll embrace every image he's taught to be
never knowing the roots of his misery
with eyes and fists clenched so tight we're raping our own minds
these precious moments of our lives
are at the mercy of fucking dollar signs
imprisoned by all that we own
and every image we desire to clone
so I beg for blindness in this world where we're shown what to be
begging for blindness to erase this disease--
let's burn each image we cannot achieve
we must erase this disease