Paradise

The mirror spits right back at me
I'm losing objectivity it seems
Because I make comparisons
Between my own appearance and my dreams

And though I dislike vanity
It seems that our society has won
My mirror like a prison cell
If I should leave then I'd expose my shell

If I can change then I'll be free
That's what the TV's selling me
But in my mind, and in some eyes
I see the danger of those lies
If I can find a way to search
Then maybe I could lift this curse

I'm gonna back, back, back it up
I'm gonna back, back, back, gonna back on up
I'm gonna find the center of myself and glide
I'm gonna stomp, stomp, stomp, on this
I'm gonna stomp, stomp, stomp, gonna stop all this
I'm gonna look inside and find my paradise

In Brooklyn all the kids stand strong
It's great how they can get along
It's so right
And when they write their poetry
They pray that they will not be sent to fight

When I compare the words they share
To what the TV spokesman blares, I cry
If we could emulate the thoughts they state
Then maybe we could hang out fears to dry

I'm gonna back, back, back it up
I'm gonna back, back, back, gonna back on up
I'm gonna find the center of myself and glide
I'm gonna stomp, stomp, stomp, on this
I'm gonna stomp, stomp, stomp, gonna stop all this
I'm gonna look inside and find my paradise

I'm gonna back, back, back it up
I'm gonna back, back, back, gonna back on up
I'm gonna find the center of myself and glide
I'm gonna stomp, stomp, stomp, on this
I'm gonna stomp, stomp, stomp, gonna stop all this
I'm gonna look inside and find my paradise