Vanity grows within
And it cuts, it cuts deep
Like razors with its judgement
Prejudiced eyes never pleased
Perfection is never reached
And it cuts at your heart
And the pain is so sharp
And it is so unbearable
Your conscious is shot
And you put down your friends
To accompany your misery
But the judging eyes are still unhappy
And you torture your body
To make the measurements fit
So the razors can dull and the pain ease
Yet the mirror laughs at your efforts
Perfection cannot be reached
The vain blood that you bleed
The battle within never ceases