How come it always tends to be,

That the guys that I like, like my friends and not me.

I always thought that the problem was mine,

Because I usually wasn't labeled "pretty, girly" or the type to whine.

I guess what they want are those girly-girls

with the frills, the lace, and the long flowing hair

The girls who get manicures and twist their hair into the tightest curls

Sorry to say, but that's not a style that I wish to bear.

See, I'm the one sittin' in the lonesome corner

The one who could give a damn what clique she was in and the clothes she wore

The one who runs with the boys and wears her hair in spikes,

and the one who wished the guy she liked, would like her more.

My style's not worth changing just to be with you,

So I'll just move on and let things at where they stand.

Just know that if another man comes along and likes me for me,

I'll be his girl and you'll be the one that lost-for together we will never be.