She shines and she radiates with true glow, so honest more than she knows, herself she
underrates.
With a bell and a whistle she decorates, to bring out less doubt, something more than
we can talk about now, put it in or fill it out, it's not what you put on, it's not what
you put on.
Oh little darling, why did you pour more on, can't you see your reflection is gold, you
don't need these to shine you up, no, my guilty lily, you're really already an art, crack in
the mirror, split her vanity, her voice grows, echoes, tells us she's a Jane Doe, so usual
and ordinary.
With a brush and a polish she touches up, her skin she fills in, color imperfections
and garlands, costumes of gold trim, it's not what you put on, it's not what you put
on.
Oh little darling, why did you pour more on, can't you see your reflection is gold, you
don't need these to shine you up, no, my guilty lily, you're really already an art, what you
want, what you want, what you want, what you want, what you want, what you want, what you
want, what you want.
With a bell and a whistle she decorates.
Oh, little darling, pour, pour on, little darling.
Oh, little darling, why don't you pour, pour on?
Can't you see your reflection is cold?
You don't need these to shine you up, no.
My dearly, dearly, you're really already enough.