I’ve a demon in the mirror
He copies what I do
Projecting a persona
With the opposite of true
Following my fancy
Stuck to me like glue
But we still have our differences
I’ll tell you just a few

If I should raise my right hand – He copies with the left
And when I seek to borrow – He likes to call it theft
If I am feeling confident – He tells me I’m a mess
When I’ve a guilty conscience though – He begs me to confess
I try to make him beautiful – He only sees the fault
When tears stain my cheek – He sees just water mixed with salt
In the surface of my coffee – He tries to catch my eye
If I should tell a noble truth – He’d taint it with a lie

In every polished surface and in every pane of glass
I see him disapprove in every window which we pass
But though he mocks me daily, I find no cause to care
So I only seek his counsel when I stop to brush my hair