Skinny legs, a perfect hair is what they to see
A pretty face and perfect body,
The opposite of me.
The pressure to be perfect is slowly closing in.
When, when will all of this come to an end?
But let's just say here and now no good will come from that
Trust me it seems okay at first
But it's all just a trap
Perfection 's a disease that clouds the mind
And believes what is untrue
It makes you believe you're never good enough,
No matter what you do.
There's only one beauty that can be known,
It's the greatest prize of all
It's called learning to love yourself,
Imperfection, flaws and all
I am beautiful the way I am,
Why can't they just see?
I may not be all that perfect
But then again, is society?