Boys come and go,
They're just like seasons.
They want beautiful girls,
With perfect bodies.
Makes yourself hideous and,
See how he disappears.
So why can't I point out my liking.
I want a man with money,
Who'll shower me with gifts,
And take me on dates.
Buy me roses,
And a golden yacht.
Boys want so much but,
Say I'm a material girl.
But we are living in a material...