They say I can't be a feminist and **** ****
They say my fantasies are capital sin
They censor my speech
They also like to say I'm quite meek
But too wild when I finally chill

They say I can't date a man older than me
They say this girl - who does she think she is?
They say I can't be on pills and against my chains
They say I can't bite the hand that feeds
And they just don't understand me
They say so much about me! I can feel it over my head
But I learnt to do something instead

So much hate and misunderstanding I get
But I use it to dye my hair
And prance like a peacock around
Showing my weird pretty feathers

**** it!
I know all your ****
It just won't soak up on me