Isn’t it the funniest thing of how we look at ourselves?
When perfection isn’t perfection
Pretty isn’t what we perceive as pretty
It’s what every one else sees
Everyone’s opinion seems to dominate our own.
Isn’t this, such a funny thing?
Isn’t it the funniest thing of how we hide the true us?
When makeup is your best friend
Vogue and Seventeen decide what you wear
When more really isn’t enough for us
We can’t even see ourselves through the lies, lies through ourselves.
Isn’t this, such an unsettling thing?
Isn’t it the funniest thing of how much we value social pressure?
We don’t even know it but we praise it
Attention drawn to it because we hate it
Goodbye world, what is it worth to be here, nothing?
But that isn’t a choice, a choice not made, please don’t, please don’t
Isn’t this, such a tragic thing?
You mean something to someone in this world, someone next to you, someone like me.
Don’t do it, I promise you things will be alright, things will change, things will be okay.
Stand up to it don’t let it eat you, it’ll be over soon, don’t worry my love.
Put a smile on your face and fight it away with that glowing light,
Stand up tall, think happy, be happy, do happy.
It isn’t the end, it isn’t the solution, it isn’t going to help.
I love you, and so do you.
You are enclosed,
In good hands,
In other words,