"When you look into my eyes,
what are you seeing?
mixed up color of disguise,
and always dreaming.
They say it's much too late to hate,
but I'm still moving.
Maybe expected me to wait,
I'm not so good at that...

Hiding from the one I am,
don't like reflection.
Pushing over things I can
is my reaction.
Trained to [bad word] my pain,
I have to see it.
Then do the same [bad word] thing again,
caught inside the circle...

What do you see,
when you gaze upon me?"