Lyrics

[INTRO]
She arrives,
the room's energy shifts,
A subtle command in the way her hair falls.
A silent declaration of unmatched importance, nothing else even remotely coming close.
[VERSE 1]
The mirror,
a silent judge.
Reflecting the image she's crafted,
the fairest of all.
Every glance from another,
a carefully woven spell,
charm deployed with practiced precision,
digital validation fuels her existence, likes and shares.
A curated reality, she lives in her own Hollywood production.
The true self, obscured by layers of constructed curated perfection.
[CHORUS]
Her world,
a self-made kingdom.
She parades, diamond purse,
a symbol of her status, a throne built upon a foundation of self-adulation.
Echo chamber of self enveloping her perception. The glint in her eyes,
a silent challenge.
No one else even attempting to reach such heights, no comparison, no equal, according to the gospel of her own perfection.
[VERSE 2]
The castle walls, bare and cold, empty echoes resonate through the halls, every smile, a painted facade, hiding the unseen depths, no one dares to disrupt the carefully constructed narrative, a story left untold, isolation reigns in her kingdom, on a self-made, icy throne, she sits alone.
[CHORUS]
Her world,
a self-made kingdom.
She parades, diamond purse,
a symbol of her status, a throne built upon a foundation of self-adulation.
Echo chamber of self enveloping her perception. The glint in her eyes,
a silent challenge.
No one else even attempting to reach such heights, no comparison, no equal, according to the gospel of her own perfection.
[HOOK]
Filters fade,
the likes diminish, cracks begin to appear in the perfect facade.
Reality intrudes, stealing the carefully constructed illusion.
A creeping unease, a silent dread, the spotlight fades.
Will the illusion still hold, or will it splitter into pieces?
[VERSE 3]
Whispers spread, subtle barbs and stinging remarks,
games played with calculated precision.
“Plastic smiles, meaningless poise," they say, behind her carefully painted face,
The online world, a cruel display of judgment, Every word a potential weapon.
She pretends indifference, but internally, she's confined to her own constructed reality.
[CHORUS]
Her world,
a self-made kingdom.
She parades, diamond purse,
a symbol of her status, a throne built upon a foundation of self-adulation.
Echo chamber of self enveloping her perception. The glint in her eyes,
a silent challenge.
No one else even attempting to reach such heights, no comparison, no equal, according to the gospel of her own perfection.
[OUTRO]
She recedes into the night,
a solitary shimmering light,
her world, forever hers, the queen,
in her fabricated reality, beyond the reach of time.