I was born with independence
Thick and stubborn in my head
But now, in the year of the damsel,
It might as well be dead
My fellow girls are different
Feeble-minded, starry-eyed
They wait up in their towers
For some prince to hear their cries

Their lips want only kisses
Not power, words, or voice
They dream solely of romance
Never victory or choice
They depend upon their boyfriends
Never their own common sense
They see themselves as lovely
Though all they really are is dense

They aspire to be princesses
Enslaved by Charming’s smile
The love songs they find moving
My ears hear as fake and vile
Their ball and chain seems weightless
Just as long as they’re desired
And in their code of honor
Upmost weakness is required

What happened to self-sufficiency?
The strength of womankind?
Our eyes used to be open
What caused us to go blind?
My feet don’t fit the slippers
I’m not the fairest in the land
But when it comes to damsels
I know exactly where I stand