It’s a tale that seems as old as man

That someone sold a dream to woman

That their biggest aim and chief goal

Is to hide themselves and sell their souls

To be the most appealing in any room

Coloring hair, injecting lips and in perfume

There’s a bittersweet feeling to this conversation

One of great consequence and of frustration

Countless animals find ugliness in the distinction

Of being caged and brought to the edge of extinction

Perhaps really the oldest profession known to man

Is this one sold by a con man to every woman

Somehow we’ve all seemingly forgot

True beauty is inside and cannot be bought