What is it that we can't see past?
Her figure or pretty face?
Her existence doesn't stop there
And who are you to tell her her place?
There's a voice behind that smile
A purpose behind those eyes
But you stubbornly refuse to see past the billboard lies
She works twice as hard for half the recognition
You complain to her all day so tell me how she's a bitch the minute she expresses herself
Is it any wonder when she turns away
There's a voice behind that smile
A purpose behind those eyes
But you stubbornly refuse to see past the billboard lies
What is it that we can't see past?
Her figure or pretty face?
Her existence doesn't stop there
And who are you to tell her her place?