The man in the mirror talks despite my lips
He continues moving, though I just stand still
Laughs at what I do and preaches what I should
I reach out hands to his neck, only punch the glass

Take the mirror off the wall
Lift it up, then drop it on my head

Unite my two selves
Drip blood on splintered glass

Wish I felt the mirror bend and fit my shape
Melt down, wrap my body, penetrate my lungs
At last I meet my man and we become one
Or shards will cut my throat and I will bleed to death


Fabio Scagliola,