They all tell me to be a girl
Who the guys want to love
Be a girl who is thin and good
Never be the girl with the ugly smile

I’m not allowed to wear sweatshirts
Or wear my hair down greasy and thick
I have to wake early and curl it
Or else I’m a nerd and a f*****

Boys have to laugh at all of my jokes
Girls have to envy my sense of style
Teachers can secretly hate me cause I’m
Pretty enough to rile the college guys

But the real question is
Am I happy with this life?
Or is this fake Barbie style
Just another mask I hide behind?

Does the mark of originality
Bore its mark on anyone?
Is it fair to want to fit in?
While still wishing I was my own?

So I sit on the doorstep
Of my brick, colonial house
Waiting for a guy with a bland name
Drive up with an SUV

He’s taking me out to pizza
Then it’s back to his or my house
We do the same every weekend
But each time it’s a different guy

They’re all blond and football players
They’re all stupid and smell like Axe
I want a dork that plays the guitar
Writes poetry and loves lilacs

When Ken gets here I stand up
Smooth my mini skirt to show my legs
Jump into the side door
Say my greetings and kiss his face

But inside I’m secretly mad
That this boy I dream of is so bad
If all my friends knew I wasn’t this girl
Would they exile me too?

If I didn’t wear Dior lipstick
Didn’t buy Juicy Couture
If instead I wore overalls
And took Peace Literature instead of Photo

What if I wore dreadlocks?
And had a nose ring in the shape of an ox?
If I met a guy from another state
Texted him in the very late

So I’m riding in the back of a car
Wishing that very far from now
There are girls who are like me

But unlike me, they are free