makeup

she's a woman of the world
looks to vogue to find her inner girl
her eyelashes will dance around their sinner's twirl
no light can pierce her eye-shadow
no ice can cool her blush
and in the solace of her makeup room there's not a hush
not a touch of human left under the paint
she's lost herself, identity is faint
she's glossed herself, identity is quaint

in a room upstairs she'll draw the stares
and justify the route she took to draw them there
straighten her hair and strip her insecurities bare
put her on her back and she'll be home sweet home
but don't attach anything to it, it must be sterilized
paralyzed by love, little boys will cry out their eyes
and she'll count the score and claim the prize
twisting every mental picture till the cock cries
while their cocks sigh and meaning takes the back seat to die

don't read too much into it all, cause i'll give you the digest
please excuse the emotional baggage while i digress:
i confess that to this mess i was a first-hand witness
you don't have to read between the lines to sense the stress
i guess my heart goes out to her because i know her well
she's living proof that death doesn't need to come before hell
she's no stranger to the danger of facing bitter truth
so like us, she'll lie to satisfy her sweet tooth
we all sing: ignorance is bliss
and since we don't know who she is or could possibly be
blissfully we'll come to find that illusion's all we see