My Story Begins October 21st 2005, Stacy Cunningham passes away.
Fast Forward
1 year later, October 21st 2006, I perform verse 2 and 3 of the song that this blog just so happens to be about. At this time the first verse and Chorus didn't exist, but out of all the songs i performed this song got the most love. Since October 21st I constantly get messages, comments, instant messages and conversations in person about this song. Supply....Demand.
Society has a funny way of making you feel like shit if you don't fit ONE precise image of "beauty". Your too fat, too skinny, bad teeth, bad skin, your boobs are too small, too big. As sad as it sounds, the truth is, our appearance defines who we are and who we are capable of becoming.
Your appearance can determine what kind of life you'll have. It can determine what kind of jobs your capable of getting, people your capable of befriending, woman/man your capable of getting. First impressions mean the world to us, don't they?
This song is about the ridiculous standards society places on us from the second we exit the womb and how these standards effect people.
Enough of my rant, heres the lyrics.
Enjoy
Verse 1:
From the moment we're 'concieved', we abruptly recieve//exaggerated expectations we could never achieve//now 'i have-to-sit' and watch the media succeed//in playin 'advocate', to make our children feel inadequate//the fassion industry has truly been given-a-duty//to constantly promote one precise image-of-beauty//while we're timid-and-usually measured-alike//and too pressured-to-like the simple pleasures-of-life//we've been blinded by projections and distorted-perceptions//of a contorted-perfection that decides our acceptance/the 'confessions' our 'reflection' rudely expresses//makes our goals even higher while our confidence lessens//and the only thing these flaws have attached-to-the-nation//is a myriad of labels and classifications//that aim to decieve and immerse-the-peverse//and search-for-the-worst ways to view our personal-worth//and the way see ourselves becomes silently-slandered//as we strive to conform to societies-standards//of a highly promoted image we wish-to-create//and are quick-to-debate the beauty in our physical-traits//from our height to our 'weight' to the shape-of-our-face//are 'traced' to one set of shoulders where the weight-can-be-placed//the public performed this etiological sin//we need confidence in the 'skin' we're already in//
Chorus:
'On the Topic of beauty', we all are divided//our appearance is the one thing we seem to put pride in//no matter how we stress we find it suprising//that our confidence is something we need to confide in//and if our self worth isn't what we need to believe in//another mans opinion is where we place our allegiance//and regardless of the way you truly percieve it//we strive for perfection knowin that we'll never achieve it//
Verse 2:
'Lately I find it 'crazy' that the thing that pains-me//is the similar flaws that i share with Jay-Dee//'Malnourishment' encouraged-it i've sure-i've-spent//years lookin for the perfect-mix of nutrients to find a certain-fix//i've 'worsened-it' and damaged internal organs-with//poor 'nurturing' and every problem is 'resurfacing'//and although i'm not the only one disturbed-by-it//theres no curing-it with an 'affirmative' urge-to-live//theirs more-to-it, than simply enduring-it//when every mirror reflects some skinny worthless-prick//anorexic is the way that i prolly-appear//i've been assualted-for-years by insults-from-my-peers//but what cost-me-my-tears and caused-me-to-fear//was that i didn't realize my weightloss-was-severe//theirs no supplements to reverse the damage-i've-done//i've 'had-to-succumb', to sympathetic faces hiding disgust//and its 'unjust' that i'm stuck hiding the fact//that i 'lack' the ammount of body fat to....//
Chorus
'On the Topic of beauty', we all are divided//our appearance is the one thing we seem to put pride in//no matter how we stress we find it suprising//that our confidence is something we need to confide in//and if our self worth isn't what we need to believe in//another mans opinion is where we place our allegiance//and regardless of the way you truly percieve it//we strive for perfection knowin that we'll never achieve it//
Verse 3:
And if you don't think societies curruptin-these-minds//let me tell a story bout a dear cousin-of-mine//now stacy began her teens//with a low self image and lower self esteem//under the 'impression' that the 'perfection' she fiens//was defined by these models you find in magazines//in her mind she created an obsession-with-weight//restrictive eatin helped her cope with the pressure-she-face//she then regurgitated what ever-she-ate//and in her eyes all remarks were just censured-with-hate//now as she followed the path of a bulemic-she-tried//to fight the demons-inside but was to feeble-to-strive//and overcome this desease-she-would-hide//from people-that-eyed her with disgust to weaken-her-pride//now at the point of her life where she would need-to-confide//in herself she let her own revulsion eat-her-alive//and never seemed-to-arrive at an agreeable-size//and completely-denied that she had reached-her-demise//even though her life began to spiral out of control//she still let her insecurities devour her soul//she obtained-a-cynical daily-ritual//as purgin her meals soon became-habitual//she resentfully-bared the mark that pessimists-wear//and lost half of her bodyweight in less-than-a-year//so with a cancer in her liver that chronically spread//she threw up for the last time in a hospital bed//