Estelle, why you puttin’ on yo lipstick in hell?

Why you still care what they see?

Why you still care what they think?

Oh, so you’re that type of girl, I can tell.

You’re one of them who lies for the image

Hides for the vision

Cries at night cause they can’t stop

swimmin’, drownin, in the falsities they tell.

Well I can see through you. I know you wanna live.

I know you wanna heal

I know you wanna feel

All of what you know could be real.

I know you know what’s right, too.

And I know you know I love you.

And I know you love me, too.

But I’m rich in spirit and poor in image, I can’t help you build the character you’ve sewn.

So you can either decide to ride or to hide,

but just let it be known

In hell, they don’t have stores where lipstick is sold.