No one's asking to go dancing

It's not like that anymore

It's romantic if they mean it

When they shut your fingers in the door

It's a gory sort of story

That's been told a hundred times before

It gets tricky

Don't be picky

If the slipper fits you

Wear it, whore.

How many tips can I take home tonight

Without them getting mad?

How many stitches do you think it takes to fix

A cut that bad?

How many minutes until midnight

And you get your eyesight back?

Not to knock it

I've been off it

Never moving very much at once

It's been awkward

I still offer it

When it's that time of

Other girls shower but I give out flowers

To curious strangers who throw dollars at my feet

How many crimes can I try spotting dry

Before it leaves a stain?

How many times say that I love you

Til it doesn't mean a thing?

How many fittings must I sit through

With my big feet blistering?

How many strips until it hits me

And my big mouth strikes again?

I'm not asking to go dancing

I'm not that dumb anymore

It's exhausting to keep smiling

When your toes are bleeding through the floor

It's a gory sort of story

That's been told a million times before

Don't be sorry

Just ignore me

Because honestly

I'm too sore from fitting exactly

To ride into setting

Suns aching

To stand on my own two feet

How many wishes do I still have left

To fix the way it ends?

How many princes will it take

To put a girl like this

Back together again?

How many instances can you point out

Where I was less than kind?

How many happy endings do you need

To change your fucking mind?

And how much time do we have left

Before it's midnight and

You see that I was never the right size?