You don't know my name,
Or how I like my tea;
You've just seen my face,
Now you think you understand me.
I catch you staring through blurred vision
at my body from across the bar.
I remember you from last time,
when you followed me to the car.
At least, I think that was you;
but how could I know?
When you all have different faces,
and all ignore my "no".
No, I will not go home with you.
No, I will not kiss you goodnight.
No, I will not give you my number.
No, I won't give you a sight.
I will not let you hold my hips,
or let you grab my waist.
You say that my lips look delicious,
but you cannot have a taste.
I am so much more than the way I look;
but my personality, to you, is a waste.
I guess that I should just get used to
being nothing more than a pretty face.