Tour jackets with bad graphics, eyes that stop traffic
She wanted to be a star
Images distort her,
Creative tongues abort her
In ways she can’t afford
To believe in
More modern than tomorrow
Doing anything to borrow
An image wrapped around like a snake
Always on the night prowl
Low curdled cat growls
Looking in corners for a real live make
Looking in the House of Mirrors
Reflecting me, reflecting you, reflecting her
Singing empty notes to be famous
Writing songs for the righteous
Till the eighth notes fall out of her ears
Only if all of this could fix her
Like a shot and a beer – or turning queer
Band-aids covering little girl tears
No feeling in her hands
No feeling in her feet
Love turned to rage
From years of defeat
Hearts grown beyond cold
Music is weak
Soul seldom stirs
Can't make out reflections
Truths become blurred
Looking through mists
In the house of mirrors
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