Within the beholders eyes,
There's held a type of beauty,
In its own sense its flawed maybe for us,
But for him it is enthralling,

It's attributes and texture vague to us,
To him its perfect,

Within the beholders eyes,
There's held a type of beauty,
In its own sense its flawed maybe for us,
But for him it is enthralling,

Like an ornament he keeps it,
With jewels he decorates it,

Within the beholders eyes,
There's held a type of beauty,
In its own sense its flawed maybe for us,
But for him it is enthralling,

For us it seems ordinary,
But to him it holds prestige in ways he can't speak,

Within the beholders eyes,
There's held a type of beauty,
In its own sense its flawed maybe for us,
But for him it is enthralling,

He seems clueless how to describe its charm,
How it feels, he knows,

Within the beholders eyes,
There's held a type of beauty,
In its own sense its flawed maybe for us,
But for him it is enthralling,

To us, it is a paradox,
To him it matters the most,

Within the beholders eyes,
There's held a type of beauty,
In its own sense its flawed maybe for us,
But for him it is enthralling.