You tell me I'm beautiful, boy I'm not that thick, I've got a mirror I can see that's not it.
You say you love me, I know that's not true, how many girls have you said that to? I know you're just a prick, another player thinking with his dick.
Maybe one day when you're older, when you've grown up, you'll think of all the girls you messed up.
Just a fling, just a fuck, meaningless words that just don't add up; you won't remember her name, if you do it's just luck.
No emotion, no feelings, to you it's just quick dealings; she thinks it's the start of something new, starting to think she'd easily love you, but really she doesn't have a clue.
The dead is done, the door is closed, you are gone, no number given, just fake digits she keeps ringing.
Have you ever thought about what happens when the girl wakes up, that silly bimbo? The dumb blonde? The fast brunette?
Broken hearts, secret tears, the wretched feeling of abandonment, feeling used, dirty, ashamed.
Girls that are easy aren't just slags, they do matter, they're not there for a good time, they're girls that get hurt over and over, hoping that one day they'll wake up and the man from the night before will still be there, that he'll never leave, that she'll never be hurt again, that after all her searching she's found the one.
But sometimes a girl gets hurt too much, she can't handle it anymore, she's got no trust left in her, sometimes 'the one' can stand right in front of a girl and ask her to take his hand, but she's too scared of being hurt again, doesn't even believe in love anymore, she's to overwhelmed with heartache, she's to scared to reach out and hold his hand, fear pulls her back, back to men who use her, the ones who broke her and keep breaking her, until she's unfixable, keeps being pulled back, until she's stuck and can't go any other way, she's stuck, stuck with men like you.
