Teardrops run down
and fall off her nose.
She cries in dark corners
where nobody goes.
You can follow the tracks
from her eyes to her chin
years upon years of letting them win.
And her eyes tell a story
of anger and pain;
you think she's happy,
but just look again.
And the scars of her past
hidden under her clothes
are a roadmap to places
that nobody knows.
Her smile is now painted,
she's a master of disguise,
and you can see it all,
just look in her eyes.
