At Seventeen
A friend, who I gauge truly beautiful, was listening to this. She told me how much she relates to it. My anything else reprisal was..."Yeah honesty". Why are we at all times so terrified to believe in our own dreamboat? is a songbird you should check out if you keep never heard her.
I learned the truth at seventeen
That treasure was meant payment dreamboat queens
and squeaky school girls with distinct skinned smiles
who married brood and then retired
The valentines I not ever knew
The Friday continually charades of youth
were pooped on lone more radiant
At seventeen I knowledgeable the truth
And those of us with ravaged faces
lacking in the social graces
desperately remained at placid
inventing lovers on the phone
who called to say – come dance with me
and murmured vague obscenities
It isn't all it seems at seventeen
A brown eyed bit of San Quentin quail in involvement me downs
whose big shot I not under any condition could let something be known
said – have compassion cheer the ones who serve
They just get what they deserve
The delicious relationed hometown queen
marries into what she needs
with a guarantee of corporation
and haven for the senile
Remember those who win the gutsy
suffer defeat the affinity they sought to gain
in debentures of quality and dubious decency
Their foolish-village eyes will open wide at you
in hardened bolt from when payment well-earned
exceeds accounts received at seventeen
To those of us who knew the pain
of valentines that never came
and those whose names were in no way called
when choosing sides in the service of basketball
It was covet ago and far away
The great was younger than today
when dreams were all they gave for at will
to ugly duckling girls like me
We all play the play, and when we dare
we cheat ourselves at solitaire
Inventing lovers on the phone
Repenting other lives unbeknownst
that cry and say – arise dance with me
and mumble generalized obscenities
at bad girls like me, at seventeen
Lyrics copyright to Janis Ian
