We All Die, In The End

Perfect Little Lie

Look at this
my great life
but still I'm slipping
down to Hell
the Spindle on the spinning wheel
The Apple a Wishing Well
wishing I could be a better me and not to me I'm used to being
hiding behind a mask
for so long we couldn't remove them without tearing our skin
I cry under my sleeves
and wipe my eyes to dry
slap on smile
and add a dot of glinting eyes
cover up my feelings
with this perfect little lie