Well the mirror is a demon
Or a medium for reality
One I look at sparingly
I don't want to see anything
Fixable faces flaunt their flexibility
Mine is set in stone, and this stone is ugly
Happy w****s and pompous pricks
Show off their s**t at every second
All I can do is stare at my feet
'Cause I know that they have got me beat
Well the mirror is a demon
Or a medium for reality
One which I do not blame
For my stupid insecurities
Now grab my face and slam it into the glass
Cut it up so I have something to blame
Give me some kind of reason to be who I am
Because destiny doesn't mean a thing to me
Flexible faces fluster frantically
To make sure that I know what I'm missing
A chisel and a mirror
Chip it all away
This stone will lie at my feet
And my true face will be seen