we see countless magazines every single day
“no, you’re supposed to look this way.”
I can’t believe what I’ve been taught
either you’re pretty or you’re not.
it doesn't matter who you are
or if you’re brighter than a star.
my hands are tied, my words are set
how do I start a brand new thread?
my story is written, already done
who are you to hold the gun?
is it me or is it you,
wearing the dress that is brand new?
your propaganda has taken its toll,
but my combat boots are on a roll.
I’m sick of ideas shoved in our minds
I’m not that stupid, I know your kind.
I’ll kick and shove ‘til I get out of here
now I know there is nothing to fear.
your minds are complacent, your hearts are unkind
I will be the one to step out of line.
so get out of my way; I won’t stop ‘til I’m done
look at me: now I’ve got the gun.