Matters of Les Femmes
This will not be about periods.
I'm not a girl, Not yet a woman
I used to think
I had the answers to everything
But now I know
Life doesn't always
Go my way, yeah...
Feels like I'm caught in the middle
That's when I realize...
(Chorus)
I'm not a girl
Not yet a woman
All I need is time
A moment that is mine
While I'm in between
(Verse 2)
I'm not a girl
There is no need to protect me
Its time that I
Learn to face up to this on my own
I've seen so much more than u know now
So tell me to shut my eyes
I'm not a girl
Not yet a woman
All I need is time
A moment that is mine
While I'm in between
I'm not a girl
But if u look at me closely
You will see it my eyes
This girl will always find
Her way
I'm not a girl
(I'm not a girl don't tell me what to believe)
Not Yet a woman
(I'm just tryin to find the woman in me, yeah)
All I need is time (All I need)
A moment that is mine (That is mine)
While I'm in between
I'm not a girl
Not yet a woman
All I need is time (is All I need)
A moment that is mine
While I'm in between
I'm not a girl
Not yet a woman
OH SHUT UP BRITNEY, YOU TROLLOP. If Britney Spears is neither a woman nor a girl, it begs the question what the hell kind of a freaky creature is she then?!
I am a woman, I know this because all of my personal documentation says so.
And my impending birthday proves it, too. Parcels arrived today, for me. In them were an odd assortment of gifts:
- Interesting pop socks
- Photgraphs of my nephew
- Scratch cards (I WON A FREE CARD, WOOT)
- A surprisingly crappy keyring
- Something else
I feel so special! No, I do. Lovable rogue Anonymous is taking me out for dinner tonight. We're having an unlikely affair that will soon be the subject of a wacky sitcom, but nobody pays any attention.
I saw that fellow George Whatshisname, the young Dublin lad with the vocal chords of a drunken fifty year old Irishman. He came second in You're A Sap or Euroshite or Irish Idolatry or something. He sings things like In The Rare Ould Times and what have you; a leprechaun in his pocket and a quart of whiskey in his belly! He was having an argument outside Fitzsimon's pub in Templebar last night, and was sporting a spiffing tracksuit and delightfully frosted highlights. This brush with fame was the breath of fresh air that my soul needed to survive another week in the arid wasteland of NeurolifeTM.
neuro-praxis -- Not A Sales Rep
Posted by neuro-praxis on January 27, 2005 05:02 PM, in the category Bushy Hair
She's a dinosaur hunter, or at least a wannabe dinosaur hunter. She's passed the girl stage, but in her clan she needs to kill a dinosaur before she can become a woman.
Now, whinging about it in songs is no way to kill a dinosaur, which is why she's STILL not a woman.
Simple really. What's your problem?
Posted by: David Barrett at January 28, 2005 09:49 AMNow this is an example of an update that doesn't short change the neurofans.
Posted by: Zoomorastanio at January 28, 2005 10:42 AMMaybe she's on those masculine hormones that all the East German athletes used to take. That would explain one or two things.
Posted by: mr_angry at January 28, 2005 12:23 PMIrish Idolatory? I hope TG4 are taking notes.
Posted by: Misled Neurofan #527 at January 29, 2005 02:33 PM