Wednesday, October 27, 2010

You don't own me.

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That angora blur with her gaze toward the heavens... its like a sweet beehived angel-voiced singer from a 
David Lynch film. Spotlighted from within and framed in black velvet. I know what I want and
 I get what I want and I do it in soft focus.


You don't own me, I'm not just one of your many toys
You don't own me, don't say I can't go with other boys
And don't tell me what to do
And don't tell me what to say
And please, when I go out with you
Don't put me on display, 'cause
You don't own me, don't try to change me in any way
You don't own me, don't tie me down 'cause I'd never stay
Oh, I don't tell you what to say
I don't tell you what to do
So just let me be myself
That's all I ask of you
I'm young and I love to be young
I'm free and I love to be free
To live my life the way I want
To say and do whatever I please
And don't tell me what to do
Oh don't tell me what to say
And please, when I go out with you
Don't put me on display
I don't tell you what to say
Oh don't tell you what to do
So just let me be myself
That's all I ask of you


I'm young and I love to be young
I'm free and I love to be free
To live my life the way I want

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