When you look at me, I know what you see.
You see chubby cheeks and crooked teeth.
You see brown eyes and curly hair.
But can you see what's under there?
Can you see my hopes and dreams?
Can you see my wicked schemes?
Can you see me suffocating,
in circumstances of your making?
Do you know I love the blues,
and country and jazz and rock n roll, too?
I like to drive to far away places.
I like to inspect peoples faces.
I'm critical of everything.
I love to cook.
I hate to clean.
I'd always rather wear blue jeans.
I love to read.
I love to write.
And you don't know how high I fly,
when life is too much and I just need to be
and stop thinking about what you think of me.
See, I'm a really good girl.
I don't cheat.
I don't lie.
I have a really big heart,
and I can't stand to cry.
I feel up in the clouds.
I feel lost without love.
I fear no one else knows what I'm made up of.
So when you look at me try to understand,
that I'm just being who I am.
There's more to me than meets the eye.
I think you'd really be surprised.