she opens up the magazine, a diagram to the fall.
mascara, skin, thin; what they want is what your not.
youll never be that way, no, you'll never be that way
theres nothing there to be except the myth of perfection
a fantasy made to entice your wallet
oh dear, do they ever love your dollar!
they'll throw Cupid in with every purchase
right after the morning sickness;
right after the burning throat, and empty stomach
for you hun, its only Diet Coke
Seventeen Magazine, perception deception
there's nothing really there, except a curved hollow shell,
topped off with hair
so leave that dinner plate untouched
stretch those clothes tight
again torture yourself by the toilet at night
i can see you're wearing thin worshiping fashion.

now chip away at their paint my dear, peal it away.
let the facade fade, let it fade away.
put aside all these rouge colored gods, and pagan idols
their lies have teinted this world, tainted love
you're not the person you see in the mirror,
no, he sees you the way you were meant to be.
beautiful, beautiful, you're beautiful
and you're loved.