There once was a time when she couldn't pa** a mirror,
She had to take a look to see her hair was straight,
That her make-up was in perfect shape.
And they once said she had a face to wake the dead,
Or at least she believed she remembered they had said
She was something they had never seen before.
So what can have happened to have turned her this way,
Creeping down the corridors, trying to hide her face,
Suffering some terrible disgrace?
Avoiding the stares of the people pa**ing by,
Refusing to give to the curious wandering eyes
The pleasures of remembering the face they knew.
For she had believed in the days when she was young
That her youth was eternal, and never could become
A thing of which she had to be ashamed.
Now her face was full of wrinkles and her hair an iron grey,
Her youth was in the distant past, a long, long time away.
She never guessed it could appear so far away.
And there once was a time when she couldn't pa** a mirror,
She had to take a look to see her hair was straight
And that her make-up was in perfect shape.
And they once said she had a face to wake the dead,
Or at least she believed she remembered they had said
She was something they had never seen before.