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You Are What You Wear
Ya walk around
With your butt hanging out
The media tells you yes!
But the heart is
Filled with doubt.
No body told you
That fashion made sense
It has stupid rules
And the morals are bent.
But still, you put on
Those uncomfortable things
With insanely tight trousers
Mini shorts,
And stuff made of strings.
. . .
Out of the many
Things you could wear
You choose the clothes
That make ya look bare.
With tops so darn low
They let nothing hide
Maybe trousers with holes in
Ooops. . .
There goes your pride.
Your body is special
Yet you treat it like trash
Copying everyone. . .
So you "think" you look flash
But . . .
Seriouslly, honey.
Where's your sense of decorum?
You think that will attract a good guy?
Nooope. . .
It will lead him to boredom.
If you really want
The right kind of guy
Treat your self as special
And hold your head high
The truth of the matter is...
If he really loves you
You could wear a sack
And he would still think
That you were cute.
:)
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