The heart has a voice that only few can hear, the ugliness inside blocks your ears, karma kills in patience, as fake as your soul is silent, the wind whispers all senses are dying

I must confess, to many people have died for the perfect image, when will they see inner beauty is everything, the cure is open your eyes and see, stop being blind by the disease

An obscene infection has spread starting this idealism, modern day indecently shouldn't shape an identity, outward adornment is such a lovely camouflage for elegance, more concerned with your outer appearance than your personality 

I must confess, to many people have died for the perfect image, when will they see inner beauty is everything, the cure is open your eyes and see, stop being blind by the disease