When your words come too easily for me to believe
And this paint goes on too thinly to peel away
I will find a silver lining sometime
Blur my vision and I'll be fine, and I'll be fine

Burn the pages of the magazines,
I hate the way they look at me
With every smile and every laugh,
There's something I will always lack
And maybe, just maybe,
An imperfected me will not be seen

When your words burn forever in my mind
And those greens and those blues seem too perfect to be true,
I will light a fire every time I think to myself,
I will be fine, I will be fine

Burn the pages of the magazines,
I hate the way they look at me
With every smile and every laugh,
There's something I will always lack
And maybe, just maybe,
An imperfected me will not be seen

But I'll go on, yes I will be,
And I'll be strong, fortunately this beauty's not clear
To me, to me, to me...
To me, to me, to me...
To me, to me, to me...
To me, to me, to me...

Burn the pages of the magazines,
I hate the way they look at me
With every smile and every laugh,
There's something I will always lack...

Burn the pages...
Burn the pages...
Burn the pages...

And maybe, just maybe, just maybe
This beauty will be clearer to me,
To me,
To me...

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