Saturday night
The moon is bright
Party happening
Everything's all right.

I meet a nice guy
But what jumps to my mind?

He only likes me because I'm made up
Oh.
Sigh.

He couldn't be interested,
Certainly not.
Once he sees what I really look like
He'll disappear without a thought.

He won't like the real me,
less make up
with glasses.
This certainly won't happen.

Because I am not good enough,
Someone better will come along.
I don't deserve this,
It's all horribly wrong.

Why get my hopes up?
When it's plain to see.
He would never ever
Like the real me.

Consistently fearful of not measuring up
Not meeting expectations.
My mind's in a rut.

I'll lower my expectations
Accept what comes my way.

He may talk to me now,
but probably not in another day.