Born and raised in the sunniest state
sat the little california dove
trained from the time she could walk
to fit on the stage like a glove

Blond hair waving like strings of pure gold
a perfect complexion to boot
A nice skinny waist and sparkling eyes
she attended her first photo shoot

They gave her a contract
a nice magazine deal
she was now a model
she happily squeeled

"Don't worry," they said
"you're perfect,
it's just
In order to be a thing of lust

your gonna need
a bigger bust
we can do that-
it's a must

and your skin, its nice and taught
a nice skin tone- it's nice, but
were going to load it with make up
and another thing, about your gut

we need you to
lose ten more pounds
no ribs and your butt is
a little 'too round'

We can color your hair
but you'll need extentions
Oh and one more thing
I should mention

The way your face looks,
its 'too real'
Not exactly the best appeal
But worry not,
this mess we can mop
it's all just the magic of photoshop."

She left the studio
then with pills and a plan
to become the most
stunning and perfect woman

She did as they said
even had surgery
In this long road of
her 'ugly perjury'

When she was done
she looked in the mirror
at her ribs sticking out
and felt no nearer

her skin was now sallow
bags hung from her eyes
always tired and hungry
she was living a lie

By searching and longing
for beauty- perfection
she had lost what was natural
to this fake new profession

Now dependent on pills
and on make up and dyes
she was now just an ugly
person in disguise