It probably means nothing

There’s a lady who’s sure all that glitters is gold
And, she is standing there, inside my mirror
She glitters, but, her arse is made purely of lead
There are two paths, only two paths, as is said
There is too, there is fro, for life, or to be dead

To dream of else is to assume that all that glitters
is gold, rather than that gold is all that does shine
Though both, in truth, are outrageous falsity
Halcyon firmament betwixt our teeth doth not
Allow a meal to be made of Heaven in perversity

She stands in the mirror, mocking my existence
Where she came from, how she came, I cannot say
Well, no one told me about her, the way she lied
With her body, taunting, she leads them on a trek
To Gehenna, to Gehenna, where the faith already died