Text: Mott The Hoople. Through The Looking Glass.

I'm feelin' ugly, I'm feelin low, mornin' mirror, you ain't no rose
Did I mean it or did I lie or did I dream it?
Oh Christ, I'm tired

Why then did you 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?

And 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 feelin' 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