Cranking Up The Stereo Of My Life

Put on a blush when they speak of marriage,

Look down when they speak dirt,

Put on baggy sweaters, long dresses,

What do you think? Am I up for traditional bullshit?

I don't know why they put on searing gazes,

Gazes burning holes through you when you're reading romance,

And for all I might care, they say you don't drink,

What am I? I shoot an angry glare.

And then they whisper- "Hey, that's taboo,

You're not allowed to speak of it."

And all I am tempted to do is kick their asses so hard,

That they go flying 'round the globe.

You know what? The next time;

The next time I might just damn them to hell,

I might as well put on my shortest shorts,

Show the world my pretty finger, and in ecstasy I might yell.

I might just attend Grande's shows,

Just drink Jack Daniels for the heck of it,

Just put on my shortest crop-tops, and

Dance like a pro to make them mad.

Yes, that's all you say, you idiot,

That baby, you are a girl, should be curt and coy,

I might just ask you to take your head out of your ass,

And, well, we'll think of more dipshit, later?

I'm a girl? Too proud to be. I should be coy? I'm really not sorry.

Don't use the F-Word? Well, baby, have you heard- Old habits die hard. Be serious? No way, I'm just too badass.