No place to hide, but no place they'll find you

When you only fear the outside

The heart is black and made of glass

So delicate and lonely

You know they look, but they can't really see

You may be the definition of beauty

,but do you have what you really need?

When your insides fogged

What does it really mean?

Can you feel, can you really

Does your brain mean more than your body?

Or without that van you breath?

You may be loved

You may be painted

Maybe held up high in glory

Do you need that to feel worthy?

Or are you more than just pretty?