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Lately I've been glaring into mirrors picking myself apart |
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You'd think at my age I'd thought of something better to do |
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Than making insecurity into a full time job |
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Making insecurity into an art |
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And I fear my life will be over |
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And I will have never lived in unfettered |
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Always glaring into mirrors |
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Mad, I don't look better |
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But now here is this tiny baby |
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And they say she looks just like me |
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And she is smiling at me with that present infant glee |
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Yes, and I would defend to the ends of the earth |
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Her perfect right to be, be, be, be |
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So I'm beginning to see some problems |
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With the ongoing work of my mind |
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And I've got myself a new mantra |
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It says don't forget to have a good time |
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Don't let the sellers of stuff power enough to rob you of your grace |
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Love is all over the place |
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There's nothing wrong with your face |
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Love is all over the place |
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There's nothing wrong with your face |
