Assistant Bubble Gum Cigars Lyrics

A customary place. A solitary place. A place where
expectations are not met. No artifacts of beautiful.
Only artifacts of honor and friendship. No goals to
meet. No gold to discover. Life. It is our
perseverance.
Sketched Faces.
Short legs. Tall legs. Thin Legs. Fat Legs. Skirts.
Dresses of many colors. Don't forget to light up your
hair with ribbons and bows. Shave. Don't shave. Don't
forget to smile pretty for the camera and always say
cheese. Be who you they want you to be and not who you
are.
Why don't you love me for who I am?

My voice has been spent. I've worked myself into
frienzes of not being good enough for you to love.
You're rendered me powerless as I search for my own
kind of freedom, my own kind of personal talent.
Fill your pockets with mother's words, the words of our
elders that called us into freedom before we enveloped
our pits with compacts and lipsticks and pills. Pills
to make you thinner, smarter, less pregnant. Pregnant
with images of TV and magazines. Cutouts of our future.
Future lost in timelines of chokers, corsets, hotpants,
and mini-skirts. Cut off our circulation. Draw up our
bones. Bending and breaking our hands hurt from
wringing and arms longing for healing. Hold us. We are
voices of a lost generation made to feel ashamed of who we are. Blame her for being pretty. Blame her for not
being pretty enough. What is enough? Fighting. Losing
one another's battles. Projecting ourselves farther
from the center, the center of ourselves, the thing
that makes us women.
We hate.
We bleed for next generations who will bury our
polished bodies and take our places. Lost our mantra.
Hear our song.
Forgiveness is not in your vocabulary. You call
yourself a support system. You don't even know what
that means. You continually shut the door in my face.
Over and over breaking my heart and breaking my
strength. You don't know how to be yourself. You join
the others.
We've read between the lines. For every glance we feed
to them, we walk away with a higher self standard. Lets
walk away from this. Lets not pay attention. If we cut
off their power, our standards (on beauty) will fall. I
won't become your billboard. I will not advertise.
Beauty lies in our nature not merchandise. Every single
day corporate suggestions try to define our beauty with
their commercial media influence. We don't want what
you offer anymore. We took what's real.
Our society doesn't know it's sick, basing our lives on
sexual politics