The mask I wear
I wear my mask to hide form the world.
It has pretty pink bows and the hair is even curled.
If people would see what's under my mask,
They would surely turn away afraid to ask.
They would see the pain, the hurt, the sorrow, the fears
They would feel the anger, the wounds and hear the sounds of my tears.
They would hear the screams of terror and aching
They would hear the sound of my torn heart breaking
Noone would reach out a hand to help
for fear of being hurt themselves
For the scars I bare are very real indeed
They'd rather turn away and pretend they didn't see
So I wear my mask
to hide from the world
It has pretty pink bows and the hair's even curled.
It has pretty pink bows and the hair is even curled.
If people would see what's under my mask,
They would surely turn away afraid to ask.
They would see the pain, the hurt, the sorrow, the fears
They would feel the anger, the wounds and hear the sounds of my tears.
They would hear the screams of terror and aching
They would hear the sound of my torn heart breaking
Noone would reach out a hand to help
for fear of being hurt themselves
For the scars I bare are very real indeed
They'd rather turn away and pretend they didn't see
So I wear my mask
to hide from the world
It has pretty pink bows and the hair's even curled.
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