What's in the mirror
An image that you hold so dear
Your hands up as you sign
The mirror entourage
Your hands are so filthy, so fragile, so old
It really [?] mean to [?]
Soap, water, and your hands
And sanitize on my mark

I'm sick and tired of sitting alone
No one but myself
Well maybe I'll make some [?]
[?] by myself
What's in the mirror
[?] everything you fear
[?] not the same [?] down inside your brain
[?] repetition
The cycle is tradition
Conformity anxiety has consumed your identity
I haven’t been told it’s acceptable
To exist as an individual
[?]
Ugh

No hesitation
Begin [?]