A strange old lady has moved in with me, I can't quite place who she could be. I never invited her, that's for sure, One day she appeared, a sly saboteur.
She hides in shadows, she’s stealthy and keen, But in the mirror, she’s always seen. When I check my reflection, there she stands, Obliterating my face with her wrinkled hands!
I've shouted at her, screamed in despair, But she just yells back with a devilish glare. She won't pay the bills or share the rent, Yet my cash is mysteriously spent.
She raids my fridge, my sweet stash is gone, And somehow she’s making the scale turn wrong! I swear she fiddles with all my attire, My clothes shrink up as she conspires.
She messes with papers, my files a mess, And blurs all my reading, I must confess. The TV mumbles, the phone whispers low, She’s twisted the volume as part of her show.
The stairs are steeper, the bed's too high, She glued down the jars, oh how hard I try! Shopping for clothes? Forget the fun, She hogs the mirror and spoils the run.
But worst of all, when the camera flashed, She jumped in front—my photo trashed. This old lady’s crafty, clever, and sly, I just hope she never stops by *your* eye!
