The teardrops run down
and fall off her nose,
she cries in the darkest corners,
where nobody goes.
You can follow the tracks,
from her eyes to her chin,
years upon years,
of letting them win.
And her eyes tell a story,
of anger and pain,
you think that she's happy,
but just look again.
And the scars of her past,
hidden under her clothes,
are a roadmap to places
that nobody knows.
Her smile is now painted,
she's a master of disguise,
and you can see it all,
just look into her eyes.