The Mirror

David Bowie

Wash your face before your faded make-up makes a mark
The mirror will watch over you
Pierrot never calls so pack your face and chase the dark
The mirrors hung up on you
Don't be last your friends and your reflections
It's autodirection now

Poor Harlequin, you're quite an exception
Fade Trubadour - on a downer
Gay Harlequin doesn't believe in you
Doesn't believe it's true - such a downer






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