Her pretty mask

Heavy pulsations from her jugular veins
audible enough from ten miles
But what can she do?
Mask it with her pretty smiles

Roaming in the worries of her mind
Strolling in the insults of her fate
What more can she do?
Well, she'll still mask it with her pretty smile

Those pretty smiles are all lies
They are not real
She only smiles because she needs a mask
Lest her lovers and haters ask

In her closet all she does is swim
Swim in the river of her own tears
Then she heaves countless sighs
While her tears drown her face

Outside that closet
She smiles then smiles some more
But deep down she knows it's all fake
Well it's because she needs a mask.