My Life Is FIlled With Quiet Nights In
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2005-03-21 15:26:31 (UTC)

Reflection Of Imperfection

You are my own private deluded plaything
And I recognise that sadistic smile
You learnt to tilt your head, with your eyes full of
You learnt to speak with daggers in your mouth
But you never carried on playing the game, I did, I did
You never took what she said to heart, I did, I did

You are my little book of excuses
And overplayed chat-up lines
You perfected the art of the little white lie
And the image of arid innocence
But you never sat in a field and wept til your heart burst,
I did, I did
You never stood in the trees and shrieked til your lungs
gave out, I did, I did

You are my reflection of imperfection
And pathetic narcissistic little-girl ills
You understand this overplayed angst
A nightmare we both indulge ourselves in
But you never tried to kill yourself darling, I did, I did
You never cut your face with a knife in a mirror, I did, I

And while I stood there watching you
It never even occured to me to ask
Why you were standing in my mirror