I know you're holding out for someone better.
A man with a mercedes and a tie?
A man who's in control, a real "go-getter",
who'll let you buy and buy, by and by?
That man will calmly smile and you will simper,
your knees will wobble and your heart will thump;
each of your half-phrased thoughts will be a whimper,
within your throat will rise a heartfelt lump.
At last you'll feel your life has found its meaning!
The mysteries of the world will all make sense,
for late at night you know you will be leaning
against the man who'll be your future tense.
I know all this. But one thought leaves me pissed:
How can you claim to be a feminist?!