I cake on my arsenal of makeup,
I spend thousands I don't have on my clothes.
I take hours trying to make myself seem okay,
From the top of my head down to my toes.

I do look incredibly beautiful, don't I,
Walking around in my Louis Vuitton heels?
If you'd like to see "beautiful",
Just look at what I do after I've finished a meal.

I'm stable and productive, they say
I'm as confident as they can possibly come.
Then why do I spend my whole life trying
To find the bottom of a bottle of rum?

She's got a heart of gold, you think,
She wouldn't hurt a lamb.
Well, I tear men up and bring women down
Just to feel better about who I am.

I know you're thinking that comparing myself to
Photo-shopped celebrities is making my life so much worse.
But until I reach this unattainable goal,
I will hide my pain and disgrace in my Coach purse.