Your lies are unraveling one at a time. The disguises are dissolving, untying the ties. Your clock has run up all of it's time displaying the ugliness of your ill devised manner. It must've gotten hot for your mascara is running, actually wait, your plastic is melting, leaving you looking exactly how you are. All the glam and the glory the dye and the clothing the words and the wishes you've thrown into our atmosphere are hitting your face like a crater of responsibility. You're a shipwreck on our beaches and we're trying to ignore all the wasted pieces.