Should I, should I, accept the change in me?
Resist improvement sighted by others?
Drink from divine waters, shine like marquees?
But the waters are unsightly buffers!
I read and comprehend my role in life
Being told what to say and what to do
I must become the queen of the beehive
Facades I must put on to carry through
Immoral and upsetting incidents
I create to fuel my adrenaline
Gimmicks I play are not quite evident
Should I confess about my medicine?
Although the change is considered betrayal
I will display myself on the table