This hauntingly beautiful song explores the delicate balance between appearance and reality. It highlights the struggle of wearing beauty that may look perfect on the outside but feels constricting and painful on the inside. With poetic lyrics and a melancholic tone, the song delves into themes of self-identity, vulnerability, and the facade of perfection.
Pretty to look at, not to touch,
Meant to wear, not to feel,
Looks like heaven, ain't it real?
On my skin,
Soft at first, will leave you dry.
Paper-thin, but tough inside,
Looks so smooth, but it won’t hide.
Tied up tight, a perfect face,
Step in close, you see the trace.
Lace won’t hide, it decorates,
Covers flaws but won’t erase.
Stitch it up, make it clean,
Still it scratches underneath.
We all wear something, stitched just right,
A second skin, a little too tight.
Beauty stings, a velvet knife,
Soft disguise, a hidden strife.
Some things shine but leave a mark,
Some things hold then fall apart.
Dress it up, make it tame,
But nothing feels good in a frame.
Lace won’t hide, it decorates,
Covers flaws but won’t erase.
Stitch it up, make it clean,
Still it scratches underneath.
I take it off, I let it be,
Turns out lace is just like me.
Not made to mask, not meant to please,
Just something fragile, trying to breathe.
Chords not available
Beat not available
pretty to look at, not to touch
meant to wear, not to feel,
looks like heaven, ain't it real?
on my skin,
Soft at first, will leave you dry.
Paper-thin, but tough inside,
Looks so smooth, but it won’t hide.
Tied up tight, a perfect face,
Step in close, you see the trace.
Lace won’t hide, it decorates,
Covers flaws but won’t erase.
Stitch it up, make it clean,
Still it scratches underneath.
We all wear something, stitched just right,
A second skin, a little too tight.
Beauty stings, a velvet knife,
Soft disguise, a hidden strife.
Some things shine but leave a mark,
Some things hold then fall apart.
Dress it up, make it tame,
But nothing feels good in a frame.
Lace won’t hide, it decorates,
Covers flaws but won’t erase.
Stitch it up, make it clean,
Still it scratches underneath.
I take it off, I let it be,
Turns out lace is just like me.
Not made to mask, not meant to please,
Just something fragile, trying to breathe.
Lana Del Rey