Just once, she'd like to be the exciting one, the girl somebody wanted.
Think: who has vans, huh? Soccer moms and serial killers.
It keeps her purity vacum-sealed to preserve its freshness for her future husband.
I think about dying every day, because I can't stop thinking about living.
No? Part girl, part wolf? Do they lick their butter knives?
Men have feelings too, you know. You bruise the petals of my manflower.