Shows you who you think you're not.
It's so f__$&*#()_g good at everything.
It's happy, I mean truly happy.
The mirror has things you don't have,
Like a crowd of admirers,
A trust fund, or
Three princes in the yard.
The mirror is taller than you,
It works harder, easily.
When it shoots, it scores.
That damned mirror,
Get lost.
You can poison it, right?
When it's not looking,
Cover it in mud.
You can rattle it,
With your snake rattle,
Scare it into cowering,
punish it.
You can troll the mirror,
And bring a crowd, too.
It's lottery day!
Stone this beast!
Get rid of the mirror,
Bring in something smaller.
Because you never want to see
Yourself that way.
Break it.
And now you have
Seven years
Bad luck.
And a new mirror
Appears, where the last one was.
There are endless mirrors.
Do you want an eternity of bad luck?
No, you don't.
You want to look
At the mirror and see a textbook,
Walking around in sneakers.
Study.
Skip to the good parts.
When you get good at you,
You become the mirror.
And yes, you have to Watch out
For stones,
Snakes,
And mud.
But you're so f__$&*#()_g good at everything.
And you're happy.
And that sleep at night,
With your progress in front of you
And your sorrows behind you,
Is worth its weight in gold,
and applause.
Get to work, bitch!
