Ingénue, what have we done to you?
Under that soft skin
I hear a ticking
The currency of being twenty-three
It turns from gold to dust
When you crest the wave of lust
So take all you can
From the mouth of man

Ingénue, framed like a cartoon
The borders clear and defined
The colors bold and bright

You'll want to be taken more seriously
But they just play a cue
And it's such a hard thing to do
So take all you can
From the mouth of man
And escape from this town
Before your sand runs out
Before your sand runs out

Ingénue, what will become of you?
When age's glacial pace
Cuts valleys into your face
The currency of being twenty-three
It will remain the same
Just by another name
Oh, ingénue
What will you do?
Oh, ingénue
What have we done to you?