Voyeurs come, rabid and spray
"I don't get what it is you're supposed to be"
So come on, whatever in me
I don't know what they expect for me to say
My fault, not thinking at all
My body should always be a public forum
My fault, not thinking at all
It could've been so easy but you just stall
My outfit drove straight men away
They don't know if it's ok to fancy me
So come on, whatever in me
I don't know what makes them think I'm interested
My fault, not thinking at all
My body should always be yours to conquer
My fault, not thinking at all
It could've been so easy but we just stall in your
Not thinking at all, you're not thinking at all
You're not thinking at all, why make life easy when it's not?
My feelings all, peripheral
My anger seen as overreaction
My outfit bore straight men to me
They don't know if it's ok to let me be
So come on, whatever in me
I don't know what makes them think they get a say