Song by Tara MacLean<br /><br>
I learned the truth at seventeen<br>
That love was meant for beauty queens<br>
And high school girls with clear skinned smiles<br>
Who married young and then retired<br>
The valentines I never knew<br>
The Friday night charades of youth<br>
Were spent on one more beautiful<br>
At seventeen I learned the truth...<br>
And those of us with ravaged faces<br>
Lacking in the social graces<br>
Desperately remained at home<br>
Inventing lovers on the phone<br>
Who called to say "come dance with me"<br>
And murmured vague obscenities<br>
It isn't all it seems at seventeen...<br>
A brown eyed girl in hand me downs<br>
Whose name I never could pronounce<br>
Said: "Pity please the ones who serve<br>
They only get what they deserve"<br>
The rich relationed hometown queen<br>
Marries into what she needs<br>
With a guarantee of company<br>
And haven for the elderly...<br>
So remember those who win the game<br>
Lose the love they sought to gain<br>
In debitures of quality and dubious integrity<br>
Their small-town eyes will gape at you<br>
In dull surprise when payment due<br>
Exceeds accounts received at seventeen...<br>
To those of us who knew the pain<br>
Of valentines that never came<br>
And those whose names were never called<br>
When choosing sides for basketball<br>
It was long ago and far away<br>
the world was younger than today<br>
when dreams were all they gave for free<br>
to ugly duckling girls like me...<br>
We all play the game, and when we dare<br>
We cheat ourselves at solitaire<br>
Inventing lovers on the phone<br>
Repenting other lives unknown<br>
That call and say: "Come on, dance with me"<br>
And murmur vague obscenities<br>
At ugly girls like me, at seventeen...<br>
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