Epitome of PrettyWell, then, I'm sorry
I don't meet your hoity-toity expectation
I didn't know you wanted to a "pretty girl"
So tell me, what would make me homely?
I suppose a lot of things really
I'm short, about five feet even
I'm chubby, weighing in at 156.6 pounds
I'm fiery and jaded, being both hotheaded and bitter
I don't wear makeup
So tell me, would you prefer me skinny and taller?
Would you prefer me painted up, like a doll?
Or would you prefer me to be soft and sweet and perky?
Well, I ain't neither
If THAT is the epitome of pretty
Then I feel sorry for you
There are all kinds of pretty and you've walked past many of them
What about that poor girl, to the left?
She seems nice
Or that one right behind you?
She's awfully funny and is fun loving
Or that one to the right, the one you shunned?
She's nice, strong-willed, but nice
Yet, you've shunned her
They are decent girls and had plenty to offer, believe me
Yet, you want the epitome of pretty
EscapeThis darkened world
Offers no hope
I suppose there is no other escape
I shall wait, though
I'm no in rush to escape
It will happen at some point
Maybe some time soon
Or some time late
Someday, there will be an escape
One made for me
And, then I'll be free