All that glitters is not gold.
Why do some people judge others By the way that they look Good looking people are often seen as good Less fortunate seen as bad Without reading their book I once knew a woman with auburn long tresses And smiling eyes that sparkled and talked Lips painted rouge She was no angel With mud on her shoes Everyone thought she was beautiful But she was ugly inside She lived however she chooses But she was no angel And had mud on her shoes She was a ruthless huntress After helpless prey The perused would always lose She was no angel And had mud on her shoes She always thought something was missing That left her confused She had everything and more But she was no angel And had mud on her shoes.
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