Through The Looking Glass

(альбом: The Hoople - 1974)

I'm feeling ugly I'm feelin low morning mirror you ain't no rose
And did I mean it or did I lie or did I dream it
Oh! Christ I'm tired.

Why then did ya have to grin, now the blood rolls down my chin
Oh You know you painted so much blue, and I'm much younger than that too
Oh mirror what did I do to you?

You're my voyeur see every line chase them to destinations
On through time
And you're my diary yeah, the bitter truth unexpurgated a mis-spent youth, oh

Do you have to paint teeth green, when they're snowy, white and clean?
Do you have to make eyes red, when they're clear and fresh instead?
Oh mirror, I wish you'd lose your head

Sometimes I'm on a gig, and I'm feeling kinda good
I run and look at you, just like a pop star would
But you just glare at me with those dark accusing eyes
That say "My make-up's good..." I'd like to.... I'd like so much to....

Oh I'll never look at you again 'cause I'm really not that vain
Seven years bad luck ain't that long before I smash you, hear my song
Oh mirror, I'm sorry you were wrong.