I'll wear my lipstick just a little bit brighter,
Do my hair real nice,
Soft, long, and free,
I'll draw on my eyeliner as a perfect line,
A stroke of vivid black,
With a perfect wing,
Just like the ones I grew to fly away from here.

Maybe when I'm gone, I'll be pretty enough.
Maybe when I'm gone, you'll be able to think back.
Maybe when I'm gone, you'll remember me.
Or maybe, when I'm gone, you'll just forget.