Teacups
{This is a song I wrote with one of my girls about the trauma some young girls go through that I work with at a youth center. It expresses forms of child abuse and how they try so hard to be perfect based on their upbringings, their families, and media. It is a song about trying to express the truth of what they wish wasn’t the truth.}
At such a young age, we are told what is considered "beauty." We are compared to barbie dolls, we are compared to photoshopped covergirls, etc. We need to accept and love the person we are, because we are perfect the way we were made. As a woman, I love every curve to my body, every scar on my body, because that is what makes up me. I don't ever want to get plastic surgery, and I won't ever change for another person's standards, or media's standards. I am happy being me, and we all need to learn to appreciate every flaw we may have... that is what makes us, us.
Playing with her friends, smile full of sunshine joy
She doesn’t remember when winter started & never ends
Little heart cold, she’s running old
Boy she’s running out of excuses
Her thorn paper legs scathed with sharpie daunt as red
Momma fought so hard to vine her up in a cage
The key thrown out to the broken promises of may
She wore a mask to all the questioning gaze
Dust in an old basement
I am burning
Doesn’t listen
Can’t anyone hear through my lies?
The wallpaper glistens, but the snow thickens even though it’s the middle of july
Chorus:
Why did they see the painted, perfect details?
Why didn’t they see the cracks in the masked over texture?
I don’t really get why they don’t see the teacups for what they are.
Fragile cracks in the porcelain
Imperfection is damaged and broken
Be the little teacup at the party with all your bears and dolls
Little miss mary mac playing a useless game
A useless life momma says while raising her head to pray
All just a misguided ghost in the god’s hand of human pawns
She is empty and doll-like and useless
Her raggedy ann doll tossed in the trash
Momma trying to give her perfect look-alike barbies
The heart of a child tossed on the floor
She wore a mask to all the questioning gaze
Dust in an old basement.
I am burning
Doesn’t listen
Can anyone hear through my lies?
The wallpaper glistens, but the snow thickens even though it’s the middle of july
Chorus: x2
Why did they see the painted, perfect details?
Why didn’t they see the cracks in the masked over texture?
I don’t really get why they don’t see the teacups for what they are.
Fragile cracks in the porcelain
Imperfection is damaged and broken
Be the little teacup at the party with all your bears and dolls
Be the little teacup at the party with all your bears and dolls…
(This song will be up on youtube soon under new name : Skylitjune)
