|
You pretend that you're alright |
|
The worst noise |
|
is when you are keeping quiet |
|
You say you're not that kind of girl |
|
Who will dramatize or traumatize |
|
Don't fold your hands |
|
don't hold your tongue |
|
The other girls will try |
|
to prove you wrong |
|
Their words will toss you like a storm |
|
You can't step aside |
|
you can't resign |
|
It's just the curse of being a girl |
|
tonight |
|
You must hold your head up high |
|
And be aware that |
|
you're the purest pearl tonight |
|
and shoot their reflections |
|
back in their eyes |
|
You're reaching out to grab his hand |
|
But he must be the world's most tired man |
|
acerbic in his compliments |
|
If he sees it all |
|
Your new shoes and all |
|
It should be unforgettable |
|
The cloudy sky should be convertible |
|
And then we end in this smokey hole |
|
Full of concubines |
|
and replicants |
|
It's just the curse of being a girl |
|
tonight |
|
You can hardly make a change |
|
Look around |
|
it's more than half the world |
|
Tonight |
|
Who must go through that same rage |
|
It's just the curse of being a girl |
|
tonight |
|
You can hardly make a change |
|
Look around |
|
it's more than half the world |
|
Tonight |
|
Who must go through |
|
that same rage |
