Mott the Hoople Follow

I'm feelin' ugly, I'm feelin low
Mornin' 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