You see a pretty girl,
You see mascara eyes.
You see my bulky curles,
You can't see between the lines.

I feel the ached lased in my bones,
I feel the tears stream from my eyes.
I feel the scars weigh like stones,
I feel my heart withering inside.

You hear my name from rumors,
You hear me say, "It's not me it them."
You hear my heart is a lure,
You can't hear my cries within.

I feel the marks on my heart,
I feel the scraps you left behind.
I feel the burns on the layers of my skin,
I feel my heart shaking inside.