I don't yet know the real you.
I see glimpses and I'm often surprised.

As time goes on I realize,
You're angry,
And you don't set aside the time.
I'm much too young to feel,
So cast aside.
Maybe you should prioritize.
Maybe you should listen when,
I'm feeling wise.
I'm afraid to tell you anything,
You're dismissive and defensive.
Is it bad that I am educated?
Rhetorical question.

Maybe you want a stupid girl,
A pretty fool.
Who can cook, and clean and satisfy you,
In a bedroom.
She'll apply her make-up and shut her mouth,
And let you be rude and stomp around.
Well these **** put her brain to good use.
I don't appreciate being told,
What I can say, or what I can do,
When it comes to helping you.
Because I'm just as, if not more stubborn than you.
I will fight to get across the words I know as truth.
I think in theories and educated guesses.
I don't leave room for faith and blind following.
So don't speak down to me in public.
Don't try to growl,
"I am man."
I do not back down so easily,
But remember I'm selective,
I am not a wife.
I have the freedom to go,
And I'll fly.