Manic Street Preachers

No one likes looking at you
Your lack of ego offends male
mentality
They need your innocence
To steal vacant love and to destroy
Your beauty and virginity used
like toys
My mind is dead, everybody
loves me
Wants a slice of me
Hopelessly passi
ve and
compatible
Need to belong, oh the roads
are scary
So hold me in your arms
I wanna be your only
possession
Used, used, used by men
All they leave behind is money
Paper made out of broken twisted
trees
Your pretty face offends
Because it's something real that I
can't touch
Eyes, skin, bone, contour,
language as a flower
No god reached me, faded