Paradox Of Beauty

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PARADOX OF BEAUTY

There goes Rodin
With a lump in his hand
God on the first Monday morning
He fashions clay
Into women as they
Suffer days of his savage contortions

Young Leonardo
First came to know
The body by feeling cadavers
He bore the smell
And the nearness to hell
And now his work stands forever

If this is beauty
Statues of stone
At least they still inspire
If this is beauty
Standing alone
At least is takes me higher

On video
She is dancing. Oh! Oh!
And she's built with those killer proportions
Her body gleams
Her Barbie face gleams
With a smile that could induce abortions

I want her now
Yes, and how, want it bad
A pheremonal disaster
There's no refinement
Of heart or of mind
Only the hide and the hunter

If this is beauty
Why does it cut?
The paradox of beauty
If this is lovely
Where is the love?
Paradox of beauty.

You've got the look
That could cook a prayer book
But you do not have beauty
You'll win the eyes
But you'll never realize
The inner prize of beauty

Oooooh!
Paradox of beauty
No more perverse positions
And cruel competitions
Paradox of beauty.