We all like to think
That she'll be better off in twenty years
That blackened poison hearts can truly change
And that she's better
Than she ever thought she could be
Well, we're wrong.
Look at all the scars, self-inflicted
They go deeper than her plastic looks
Right down into her core
And no matter how in love she says she is
She'll always be a cheating whore.
Or is this goodbye?
No one knows how long she'll stay
In this godforsaken town
With little pieces of sex
All broken on the floor
She'll stick to cigarettes and needles
Avoiding anything more
Avoiding the truth:
That looks only go so far
When one day you will wither with age
And wish that you were better
And that you meant something to anyone at all.
Do the wounds you hide make you feel whole?
Does the vanity you portray really mean a thing?
Let's cut you open, just to see
If inside your anorexic frame, a heart still beats.