Your million dollar suicide gets old quick,
The five grand rope around your neck is slick,
Slick with the lies you've told and the memories you hold,
You cash in words that mean nothing just for a little more ego.
So don't fool yourself, those phrases you catapault mean nothing,
Your myspace header isn't an invitation, a pass to confidence:
Get over yourself.
I bet you spend all day in the mirror,
Caking on mascara and promises to be.
I'd like to see your ring when you get married to mr scene,
How big is the rock gonna be?
So shove your lipstick down your throat, take off that blog and get a self love antidote,
Because I can't stand any more of your sugary sweet perfectness.
I hope your eyelash curler breaks,
I want your skinny jeans to bust,
I hope every insecurity you've covered up comes to life.