Wake up in the morning, Paste the smile upon my face. Maybe I'll get through this day, Maybe I'll get through this phase... Start looking through my closet For one of my "conceited" shirts... Maybe they won't see past the outside And see how much the inside hurts. Pull out all my make-up, Start to paint my face... Trying desperately to find some beauty, Trying so hard to find a trace. Why can't they look past this front? Why can't they see past this show? Can't they see there's more to me Than this make-up and these clothes? -*Shelly Keown*