She's in front of the mirror
Photographers pile up in the rear
Close ups of her lips and the fever
In tose enormous eys of the winner

The makeup's coming on or not you wonder
Makes no difference to them or her
The lines on her face are frozen over
In a deep mask of disdain, a sneer

Fabulous life, she craves
Without a hint of who she betrays
Glamourous times when she braves
The gossip and grime of the days

She's going out now, catwalk time
Those transparent heels float her so fine
The gown she wears shimmers burgundy wine
Her hands swing in graceful line

She meets those eyes proud and burning
She almost stumbles but manages, laughing
No one shall unwind her life or meaning
She moves swaying, sashaying.

Who is she, who knows
What is her agenda who knows
What will she take to give up thos precious secrets
Who dares to tell her story