It's His Fault

The media controls how beauty is defined, He may be a follower, or he may be left behind. I give you the test, the one that tells in time, How you may be judged, or aren't right in the mind. Because you think different now, you're in disguise People will stare as if clouds fell from the skies You can't run away, he's too wise. He'll follow, just like the other guys. Now what to do? When you're not quite unique. They call your style the new chic. You want to be different, not weak; you can't change now, or he'll tweak.