This Beauty

When your words come too easily for me to believe and this paint goes on too thinly to peel away.
I will find a silver lining sometime.
Blur my vision and I'll be fine. And I'll be fine

Burn the pages of the magazines,
I hate the way they look at me. With every smile and every laugh, there's something I will always lack.
And maybe, just maybe,
an imperfect me will not be seen.

When your words burn forever in my mind and those greens and those blues seem too perfect to be true, I will light a fire every time I think to myself,
I will be fine,
I will be fine.

Burn the pages of the magazines,
I hate the way they look at me. With every smile and every laugh there's something I will always lack.
And maybe just maybe an imperfected me will not be seen.

But I'll go on, yes I will be, And I'll be strong, fortunately this beauty's not clear to me to me to me, to me to me to me, to me to me to me, to me to me to me.

Burn the pages of the magazines I hate the way they look at me, With every smile and every laugh there's something I will always lack.

Burn the pages,
Burn the pages,
Burn the pages.

And maybe just maybe just maybe this beauty will be clearer to me. to me. to me.