Why do those who do not know, want to judge and label me so?
If you like this you must be that, if you like that you must be this.
I don't like one thing or another, for most people I could not bother;
but when I see, what I like, it doesn't matter, what's their type.
If they're a girl, that is nice, if they're a boy, sheer delight.
I end up liking more and more, the boys I simply do adore;
but not all, you're surprised to know, I am a fussy so and so.
The girls they leave me with a smile, as I dance with boys awhile.
And given that I meet my peers, obsessed with boys in underwear.
Bulging chests and hairy legs, pornography and sexy ass.
It's crass to me the things they see, I love to watch a smile or three,
for beauty is lost in ecstasy, a normal girl or boy for me.
I like, who I like, and no more, I am just me, I keep no score.