Send In The Clowns
Lipstick and foundation and some blush upon the cheeks
Women painting themselves up like lurid, ghastly freaks
They say, “It makes me feel pretty” without imagining
How it is to look upon this phony, pancaked “thing”
If you could see through my sharp eyes the deception that’s drawn
On natural beauty until every last trace is gone
If you could see the eyeliner that distracts from the gaze
The lipstick which embellishes, the eyebrow plucking craze
Hordes of women who paint up because their mommies did
Who live in fear of their real face, grabbed cosmetics and hid
If you could walk a mile in the shoes of those who see
Makeup as a misleader your face would be paint-free
I tend to ask the painful questions so here’s one for “chicks”
Who need to paint themselves like clowns ‘fore they appear in pics:
Why don’t you have that pretty feeling when your face is bare?
Why don’t you feel exquisite with your plain old boring hair?
Why don’t you feel so beautiful without mascara on?
Why do you look at what God gave you and then simply yawn?
Why is what you have not special? Stunning? Elegant?
Who decided beauty is not blessed but rather, spent?
Who decided that you’re plain unless you paint your face?
And why on Earth would any rational woman embrace
Such a silly concept, why just follow without thought
And cover up the REAL and NATURAL beauty you’ve got?