We were simply written into the script
As characters decidedly inciting some rift.
Protagonizing, agonizing.
Fictitious sightseeing, so frightening
What I might mean.
I want beauty to believe
That I can be a better sight to see.
That I can shape a saunter from a walk.
And I can grace the senses with a soft
Unassuming touch that, hitherto,
Has never seen the light of darkened rooms.
I have crowned her name
I have cursed it too.
I have held it high
As a basic truth.
But who are you?
Who are you?
Beauty,
We need to see
Who are you?
Who are you?
Beauty,
We need to see
Who you are?
Who you are?
Beauty,
We need to see
Who you are?
Who you are?
Beauty,
We need to see
Still I act as if I have a chance
Relenting or abiding when I can
But, Beauty, hark that I want nothing more than to
Fall right back into your arms
And you can sing me pretty lullabies
How everything that matters is in your eyes.
We're passing the massive-destruction-panic.
Didn't I stop dead in its track to vanish?
Didn't it mimic the boredom before it?
Calling into question the method of boredom.
Victory. Vanity.
Victory. Vanity.
Victory. Vanity.
Victory. Vanity.
I believe everything Victory says to me.
Oh, mirror, oh, mirror on the wall.
Is there no beauty behind the wall?
Anymore,
Everything is everywhere.
What a bore,
What to drink and what to wear
Give me more, cause I don't think and I don't care
I'm a whore,
From everything and everywhere.
Beauty's a whore,
From everything and everywhere
Beauty is a whore for every--
Who are you?
Where are you?
Beauty
We need to see.
Who are you?
Beauty is you, see?