I'm wise and ambitious
And angry and free
And smart and available
And s***...
I'm soft and appealing
And wearing pajamas
And twisted and willing
And crazy...
And this is the story of the death of Cinderella
She'd grow to be a maid if she couldn't find a fella
Who can use her
And it's all you could do not to throw her on the floor.
And thought-provoking
And opinionated
Cultured and funny
And experienced...
Fearless and tender
And sweetly innocent
Uninhibited
Likes a good debate.
And this is the story of the death of Cinderella
She'd grow to be a maid if she couldn't find a fella
Who can use her
And it's all you could do not to tie her to the bed.
I could fall in love a million times before I die
You could draw me a bubble bath
We could walk into the sunset...
And this is the story of the death of Cinderella
She'd grow to be a maid if she couldn't find a fella
Who can use her
And it's all you could do not to keep her sober. (or "and it's all you could do not to shake her shoulders... hard" [?])
And this is the story of the death of Cinderella
I'm gonna grow to be a maid and I'll never find a fella
Who can use me
And that's all you can do not to kick me in the ass.
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