Play the part of Cinderella, get dirty to make clean.
A quest that never ends, no short-cuts inbetween.
With an untouched speck flying through to the room.
Sigh...why do they only see the things you did not do.

So few have the precious time to look upon you.
And yet, a disguisted, degrading look they drew.
Burst the emotions you kept tightly in routine.
When will you be the one to take up the scene?

Beaten by words until your heart is black and blue.
Is it so, you're made for this life you live through.
Possession of nothing, you are nothingness convened.
A waste of space, is your purpose, so unclean.

Now, play the part of Cinderella, get dirty to make clean.
Devilishly twist the fate till it switches what's seen.
Make them suffer as you have always been.
Show them what cleverness you have inside you.
Torment, disgrace till you regain what's true.
Make them see how life would be without you.

You're a living person with everything keen.
And this part that you play, I'm not a machine.
Tell me once again what it is in your view.
Then fly far away one day and say thank you.

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