You say I look “beautiful”
The end of this is my horizon
This party’s a thunderstorm
Are you blinded by the smoke?
They say some girls look pretty in red
But I’m pretty in tears

And it feels like I’m the only one with these types of tears
You’re just accustomed to calling me “beautiful”
Can’t you see my eyes are red
Past the glistening highlights on their horizon?
My skin burns in the smoke
Destroyed in the acid rain of this storm

Clouds like bruises in the storm
Rain like tears
Fog like smoke
It’s not “beautiful”
All this chaos blocking the horizon
Our true selves burning red

Careful not to be put out, that fiery red
Stands, resisting the wind and rain of the storm
But resisting the white line on the horizon
Resisting its own tears
Trying to stay “beautiful”
Covering itself with smoke

Eyes of smoke
Lips of red
And we call that “beautiful”
Until the storm
Then it gets smeared by rain and tears
But your eyes still look past to the horizon

I think I still see the light on the horizon
Though it’s hard to, through the smoke
Through the distortion of my steamy tears
When all I see is red
I’m so sick of this storm
Of people calling this “beautiful”

I try to hold back my tears, for they may reveal the red
And to get to the horizon I tried to breath the smoke
Now the storm is inside me, making me “beautiful”