Hush now, hush, let the chandeliers confess,
I drink the light until it calls me blessed
A mirror is a gospel, silver-tongued and clean,
It tells me what I am, and what I ought to seem

I was born in a perfume cloud, in powdered wigs of noon,
Where every sigh is currency and every bruise a tune
I learned to smile like knives do, I learned to bow like flame,
I learned the holy science of arranging my own name
If heaven has a doorway, it’s a polished, gilded frame,
And I am always arriving, and everyone’s to blame
I keep a little altar where the applause never dies,
Candles made of compliments, incense made of lies

Say it again, say it slow,
Let the chorus stroke my throat
If I’m not adored, I’m not awake,
If I’m not seen, I start to break

Praise my face, praise my voice, praise the glitter in my veins,
Praise the careful little crown I forged from other people’s pain
I don’t want truth, I want a shine, a halo I can borrow,
I want tonight to last forever and delete tomorrow
So lift me up, don’t look behind, don’t ask what it has cost,
I’m the sermon, I’m the splendor, I’m the beautiful lost

Mirror, mirror, keep me holy, keep me bright,
Make me worth the worship in the dying light

I host a feast for hungry eyes, I pour them velvet wine,
A thousand hands reach out for me, I tell them I’m divine
I speak in curated lightning, in captions and in lace,
I sell a soft apocalypse with perfect taste and grace
And when the room goes quiet, I hear the floorboards think,
I hear the dry confession of the sink
My laughter turns to glass dust, my heartbeat turns to stage,
I’m charming as a prison, I’m tender as a cage

Say it again, say it sweet,
Let your envy kiss my feet
If I’m not adored, I’m not awake,
If I’m not seen, I start to break

Praise my face, praise my voice, praise the glitter in my veins,
Praise the careful little crown I forged from other people’s pain
I don’t want truth, I want a shine, a halo I can borrow,
I want tonight to last forever and delete tomorrow
So lift me up, don’t look behind, don’t ask what it has cost,
I’m the sermon, I’m the splendor, I’m the beautiful lost

Under the makeup, under the gold,
There’s a trembling child getting old
She counts the claps like rosary beads,
She prays to a god who never bleeds
She says: "If they love me, I exist"
She says: "If they leave, I’m a mist"
So I stitch new stars into my skin,
To hide the place where I cave in

Tell me I’m radiant, tell me I’m rare,
Tell me the void looks good on me, there
Tell me my hunger is elegant art,
Tell me it isn’t eating my heart

No witnesses, no cameras, no choir,
Just me and the mirror and the rising fire
I practice my smile in the dark like a hymn,
I practice being infinite, razor-slim
I can’t be ordinary. I can’t be small
If I fall from the spotlight, I don’t fall at all

Praise my face, praise my voice, praise the glitter in my veins,
Praise the careful little crown I forged from other people’s pain
I don’t want truth, I want a shine, a halo I can borrow,
I want tonight to last forever and delete tomorrow
So lift me up, don’t look behind, don’t ask what it has cost,
I’m the sermon, I’m the splendor, I’m the beautiful lost
Praise the mask, praise the myth, praise the way I never tire,
Praise the mirror as it baptizes me in borrowed fire
Even if I’m empty, make it look like I’m a sun,
I’ll burn through every tender thing until the night is won

Mirror, mirror, keep me holy, keep me bright,
Hold my head above the flood of fading light
If love is just a lens, then turn it, let it flare,
And if I’m only surface—
Then darling, let me be the fairest there