...AT SEVENTEEN... by Janis Ian
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*from 'Between the Lines' (1975)*
Verse 1:
I learned the truth at seventeen,
That love was meant for beauty queens.
And high school girls with clear skinned smiles,
Who married young and then retired.
The Valentines I never knew,
The friday nights charades of youth.
Were spent on one more beautiful;
At seventeen, I learned the truth.
Chorus 1:
And those of us with ravaged faces,
Lacking in the social graces,
Desperatly re-mained at home,
Inventing lovers on the phone.
Who called and say; "Come dance with me",
And murmured vague ob-scenities.
It isn't all it seems, at seventeen.
Verse 2:
A brown eyed girl in hand-me-downs,
Who's name I never could pronounce,
Said; "pity please, the ones who serve,
They only get what they deserve.
The rich relationed home-town queen,
Marries into what she needs.
A guarantee of company,
And haven for the elderly".
Chorus 2:
Re-member those who win the game,
Lose the love they sought to gain.
In debentures of quality,
And dubious in-tegrity.
Their small town eyes will gape at you;
In dull surprise, when payment due;
Exceeds accounts received, at seventeen.
Verse 3:
To those of us who know the pain,
Of valentines that never came.
And those whose name were never called,
When choosing side at basketball.
It was long ago and far away,
The world was younger than today.
And dreams were all they gave for free,
To ugly duckling girls like me.
Chorus 3:
We all play the game and when we dare,
To cheat ourselves at solitaire.
In-venting lovers on the phone,
Re-penting other lives unknown.
That call and say; "Come dance with me",
And murmur vague ob-scenities,
,
At ugly girls like me; at seventeen.
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