Written April 10 1980
We look as if we’re in the chase,
For men and sex along the race,
To trim our arse and flaunt our tits
Without fat wobbling to give men the shits.
We dress up fine and flirt and glance
Hoping to attract the chance
Of winning on the sexy stakes
Except that is our big mistake.
As women we have much more than that,
Declare our minds and strip the law
Between the sexes, only foolish
To play a game that’s only schoolish
Around the bed and not the desk,
Demean ourselves by offering less.
And men, the fools, are caught and trapped,
In our smart game, our route is mapped,
For marriage, love and a man to hold
And success is ours we’re always told.
But what of us and what we feel,
That dressing up is not so real,
But just a show for their approval,
When what we want is blunt removal
Of surface imagery and all the crap
That’s thrown at us along our map.
For ourselves should be our quest,
Not caring whether by men we’re blessed.
It’s just their ploy to put us down
Attending to our looks like clowns
Ignoring us, what we’ll do next
Just bodies, faces for some sex
Is their criteria, how we appeal
Based on nothing but the glib unreal.
Our challenge is to please ourselves
To gain and claim our looks and sex
Without the fools around our necks
For big tits and arse is all they see,
We’re better off by letting it be.