Cover it up

Did you know it’s lying to you?
Did you know that it’s not your friend
That it secretly hates you?
 
Did you know it isn’t fixed?
Did you know it can bend and twist
And throw you into distortion?
 
Don’t trust the mirror, my dear;
It’s plotting with the TV and the magazines
And turning your own mind against you.
 
Don’t trust the mirror, dear;
It belongs in the funhouse.
 
Hateful bastard.