During the event, you ogle me like a piece of meat.
Then when I approach you, you can’t look me in the eye when I greet.
But you’re the same person who claims we’re friends, cause I’m exotic and neat.
Then, if I don’t give you what you want, you spread rumors I stay drunk in the street.
Those words hurt, but what hurts more is your sudden silence when the patrol starts to beat.
