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Zoned Out

 


Honestly, it cracks me up every time,
These Indian guys think I’m on cloud nine,
Obsessed, in love—oh, please, spare me,
Like I’m hangin’ on every word they breathe.

The ones who never saw that look on my face,
Discomfort was written clearly, yet they kept up the chase.
Consent’s a foreign concept? Yeah, no surprise,
They think a girl’s affection is a given prize.

They act like I owe them my time and my love,
Like I’m some saint sent down from above.
The cowardly ones, leading me on slowly,
Then playing innocent when I catch on, though.

It’s amusing, really, I’m not even mad,
In fact, I’m relieved I don’t feel so bad.
No need to mother these boys anymore,
No longer interested in what’s at their core.

I don’t care who they are, don’t care what they do,
I’ve got zero interest and nothing to prove.
The illusion is fading, I’m no cute friend,
I'm not pretending anymore, this charade’s at an end.

They thought they could pull me into their game,
But I’m way past caring, I’m not the same.
So watch me walk, watch me strut away,
I’m done with this nonsense, I’m done with the play.

I’m not your dream girl, not your fan,
I’m not here to stroke your ego, man.
Honestly, it’s so amusing to see,
How much freer I am just being me.

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