my reflection never seemed perfect, in the shards of broken glass,
mismatched color figures, and examples of what has past,
I've never been so certain, if i should live or die,
but i think its time to consider, my final lullaby.

four walls and a ceiling, and a floor to stop my fall,
what good is a mirror, that makes u feel so small,
would you believe in fate, destiny or desire?
i did at one point, but that belief has long retired.

ive been blinded so well, by this semi-tonal shine,
black and white imagery, so confess your pretty lies,
i will congratulate you, and sing the serenade,
just attend my funeral, that marked my final day.
 
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