I'm holding out for something true
for the one who really thinks
I'm not too loud or sassy
and my thighs, they aren't too big
who doesn't see my belly
or think I'm a walking growth spurt stretch mark
or that my hair is never right
and I wear yesterdays makeup today
I know there's someone out there
who doesn't think I talk too much
and values my opinions
who also thinks I'm smart
I'm waiting for the one
I guess they call him Mr. Right
to help me up when I'm down
not down me for my plight
who wants to be with me clothed
as much as when we're not
who sees me as an equal
more than just a back scratcher to reach that itchy spot
I'm holding out for the real thing
that lasts past Saturday night
for the drum beat to my melody
for the fire to my light