Neck-ties strangle me beyond my parents' grasp
And I’m not just being awkward, I insst
‘Respectability' that sacred virtue
Is a construct oh-so subtle that it's tricky to resist
Public invisibility is not a paradox
For a better oxymoron: try ‘catwalk amputee’
And I don't think that I'll be ready for the front page Till they invent and airbrush especially for me

The panoptic gaze is keeping me in check
There may be no gun to my head
But nonconformity equates to no respect
But I'm not the only one who's sick
Of aspiring to a fabricated norm that just won't stick to who I am
‘Normality' is such a fucking scam

The average British woman is a size 16, but the average British model is a 6
And Dove may say it's campaigning for ‘real beauty’
But Dove is Owned by Unilever, who also own Lynx And we’re familiar with the women in the Lynx adverts
They're examples of what we expect from women on TV
Skinny, young, objectified and silent
We’re drowning in the Beauty Myth, we're trapped within deceit

I'm tired of seeing life through this male gaze
So terrified to drop our guard
The whole world is a stage
Passivity to judgement as constraint
A re-examination of the aspects of ourselves that we can't stand
‘Normality’ is such a fucking scam