The Prude Responds to Rock and Roll
I have legs but don't know how to use them.
I'm out of sugar but if I had some,
I would not lend you any
nor would I feel comfortable pouring some on you.
I'm not a beauty and that’s not alright.
It's upsetting. When I think about you
I don't touch myself or if I do it's only to readjust
the Kleenex up my sleeve. My body
isn't a wonderland.
It's more like a wicker furniture showroom.
I don't own a fruit cage, to my knowledge.
(What's a fruit cage?) When you claim
you’ll take me to a place I’ve never been before,
which, can I mention, you say a lot,
I do need you to be specific before I consent.
And yet part of me
wants you to want me --
because regardless it's been a long time.
In fact, it's been a very long time --
a long lonely lonely lonely lonely lonely time.