David Bowie - The Mirror Lyrics
Wash your face before your faded make-up makes a markThe mirror will watch over youPierrot never comes so pack your face and chase the darkThe mirrors hung up on youDont be last, your friends and your reflectionIts all so direction nowPoor harlequin, youre quite an exceptionFay troubadour, on a downerGay harlequin, doesnt believe in youDoesnt believe its true, such a downer.