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Every now and then, a woman releases a song that is so antithetical to all the hard work we’ve been doing in the name of “woman”, it just makes you want to throw your hands up in the air and give her a massive nipple cripple. Really, sister? We’re breaking our backs out here on the front line, and you give us… the anti-girl anthem?
Would it be better, if I could tell you how I really feel? If the next time your eyes met mine in the half darkness of a moodily lit bar, their reflection glowing in the whiskey inhabiting the glass between your fingers, I just said, “I want you to be mine”? Would it make me feel better, then, to have you reach your fingers across the table between us, and interlace them with mine while you gave me your response?