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Mirror, mirror
at the end of the hall
The same lie you will tell
when your mistress call
Vexed with vanity,
she'll want to be reassured by you
So you must tell her, she's beautiful still
Lie, lie again if you will
to this 50-year-old spinster
with no marriageable skills
Mirror, mirror
hide the cracks in the skin
Tell her she's as beautiful
as she was way back then
Just don't let her stand too close,
don't let her gaze too hard
She might not like what she see,
this true reflection of reality
Mirror, mirror
You served your mistress ever so well;
dressed her in illusion,
boasted that her beauty would always sell
But truth washes away your lies,
once she steps from the castle into the rain
All the young men look untoward her,
passing by her faded beauty with disdain

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