People think he's perfect when he's not,
People think he just breezes through life without a care when he doesn't,
People think he can just shrug everything off but he can't.

Nobody sees the real Mr. Perfect.
Nobody sees that he works for it.
Nobody sees how hard he tries.
Nobody hears his silent cries.
Nobody... but me.

I see the man behind the mask because I wear one too,
I see how hard he works on it though just like me,
I see how every shard of him is driven to be perfect just like me,
I hear his silent screams because I scream the same things,
Only nobody sees... at least I think.

I think he can see the girl behind the mask when he looks into my eyes,
I think knows how hard I work when I ask him for help,
I think he can sense that all of me is driven to being perfect when he stands near,
I think he can hear my silent screams when he hears my voice,
I think he's like me.