Walking in front of a church.
Everyone looks at her.
Is not because she's breathtaking.
Is because she was made to capture attention.

She was so pretty one of these days.
She was so pretty that was the boy's party itself.
Now, her face is covered with heavy makeup.
She isn't bold enough to show her eyes.

[Pinky cheeks and huge sun glasses.
That will change no fact.
Pinky cheeks and red stilettos.
You're now the clown instead.]

‘'I am no whore, I'm not promiscuous!''
But looking at the way she dresses you can get a doubt.
It's like an old fashioned pin-up
Who had the paper of her photograph passed out.

Often at night, her pillow gets wet.
With black tears of frustration and the dust of her thoughts.
Is just that someone forgot to…
Tell her beauty is not about some hot and smooth flesh.

So, queen of the prom.
I guess is not your fault.
I guess they did this to you.
I guess they spoiled you a lot.
And when you see your face in the mirror.
Those cruel lines of a poor old hag.
And when you look behind, all opportunities.
You see that's not the life they promised on that…
Fashion magazine!
Those silly Teenage Dreams!
Did your lovers ever know you?
Did your lovers ever like you?
I'm not lonely! I'm not lonely!
I'm not a product! I'm not a product!
I'm not a picture! I'm not a picture!
I am real! I am real!

[Chorus]

Walking in front of a church.
Everyone looks at her.
Maybe there's a really kind man around here.
Thinking that she's so beautiful.