| I learned the truth at seventeen | |
| That love was meant for beauty queens | |
| And high school girls with clear-skinned smiles | |
| Who married young and then retired | |
| The valentines I never knew | |
| The Friday night charades of youth | |
| Were spent on one more beautify | |
| At seventeen I learned the truth | |
| And those of us with ravaged faces | |
| Lacking in the social graces | |
| Desp'rately remained at home | |
| Inventing lovers on the phone | |
| Ian Janis | |
| Who called to say "Come dance with me" | |
| And murmered vague obscenities | |
| It isn't all it seems at seventeen | |
| A brown eyed girl in hand-me-downs | |
| Whose name I never could pronounce | |
| Said, "Pity, please, the ones who serve | |
| They only get what they deserve. | |
| The rich relationed hometown queen | |
| Marries into what she needs | |
| A guarantee of company | |
| And haven for the elderly" | |
| Remember those who win the game | |
| Lose the love they sought to gain | |
| In debentures of quality | |
| And dubious integrity | |
| In dull surprise when payment due | |
| Exceeds accounts received at seventeen | |
| To those of us who knew the pain | |
| Of valentines that never came | |
| And those whose names were never called | |
| When choosing sides for basketball | |
| It was long ago and far away | |
| The world was younger than today | |
| And dreams were all they gave for free | |
| To ugly ducking girls like me | |
| We all play the game and when we dare | |
| To cheat ourselves at solitaire | |
| Inventing lovers on the phone | |
| Repenting other lives unknown | |
| That call and say, "Come dance with me" | |
| And murmur vague obscenities | |
| At ugly girls like me at seventeen |
| I learned the truth at seventeen | |
| That love was meant for beauty queens | |
| And high school girls with clearskinned smiles | |
| Who married young and then retired | |
| The valentines I never knew | |
| The Friday night charades of youth | |
| Were spent on one more beautify | |
| At seventeen I learned the truth | |
| And those of us with ravaged faces | |
| Lacking in the social graces | |
| Desp' rately remained at home | |
| Inventing lovers on the phone | |
| Ian Janis | |
| Who called to say " Come dance with me" | |
| And murmered vague obscenities | |
| It isn' t all it seems at seventeen | |
| A brown eyed girl in handmedowns | |
| Whose name I never could pronounce | |
| Said, " Pity, please, the ones who serve | |
| They only get what they deserve. | |
| The rich relationed hometown queen | |
| Marries into what she needs | |
| A guarantee of company | |
| And haven for the elderly" | |
| Remember those who win the game | |
| Lose the love they sought to gain | |
| In debentures of quality | |
| And dubious integrity | |
| In dull surprise when payment due | |
| Exceeds accounts received at seventeen | |
| To those of us who knew the pain | |
| Of valentines that never came | |
| And those whose names were never called | |
| When choosing sides for basketball | |
| It was long ago and far away | |
| The world was younger than today | |
| And dreams were all they gave for free | |
| To ugly ducking girls like me | |
| We all play the game and when we dare | |
| To cheat ourselves at solitaire | |
| Inventing lovers on the phone | |
| Repenting other lives unknown | |
| That call and say, " Come dance with me" | |
| And murmur vague obscenities | |
| At ugly girls like me at seventeen |
| I learned the truth at seventeen | |
| That love was meant for beauty queens | |
| And high school girls with clearskinned smiles | |
| Who married young and then retired | |
| The valentines I never knew | |
| The Friday night charades of youth | |
| Were spent on one more beautify | |
| At seventeen I learned the truth | |
| And those of us with ravaged faces | |
| Lacking in the social graces | |
| Desp' rately remained at home | |
| Inventing lovers on the phone | |
| Ian Janis | |
| Who called to say " Come dance with me" | |
| And murmered vague obscenities | |
| It isn' t all it seems at seventeen | |
| A brown eyed girl in handmedowns | |
| Whose name I never could pronounce | |
| Said, " Pity, please, the ones who serve | |
| They only get what they deserve. | |
| The rich relationed hometown queen | |
| Marries into what she needs | |
| A guarantee of company | |
| And haven for the elderly" | |
| Remember those who win the game | |
| Lose the love they sought to gain | |
| In debentures of quality | |
| And dubious integrity | |
| In dull surprise when payment due | |
| Exceeds accounts received at seventeen | |
| To those of us who knew the pain | |
| Of valentines that never came | |
| And those whose names were never called | |
| When choosing sides for basketball | |
| It was long ago and far away | |
| The world was younger than today | |
| And dreams were all they gave for free | |
| To ugly ducking girls like me | |
| We all play the game and when we dare | |
| To cheat ourselves at solitaire | |
| Inventing lovers on the phone | |
| Repenting other lives unknown | |
| That call and say, " Come dance with me" | |
| And murmur vague obscenities | |
| At ugly girls like me at seventeen |