She stands and stares to a distorted reflection,
Masked underneath a shiny plastic complexion,
And there are stories told in her baby blue eyes,
Hidden underneath all of her pathetic little lies.
And the words that they say get under her skin,
They're itching away at her, making her head spin,
But her crocodile tears stream down her face,
As she holds herself in the devil's tightened embrace.
Fashion magazines with pin-thin models line her walls,
Through this broken down dream, she tumbles and falls,
But the food touches her lips and she cringes to say:
"A moment on the lips, forever on the hips it will stay!"
And she befriends a girl named Ana, listens to every word said,
Lets the media brainwash her and get inside her spinning head,
With hands held high in the air, she falls down to her knees,
Pulling at her hair, she begs and she screams out: "Please!"
Ana's got her wrapped around her finger, she won't stop,
She'll do whatever it takes to make it to the top,
And those California girls with their skirts down low,
Are the ones she looks up to - blue eyes brightly aglow.
And she's got her hands held high above her head,
Listening to every word that precious Ana's ever said,
With tears in her eyes, she bows to another picture,
She'll get there one day if it means the death of her.
