I'm sorry I cook for shit
I'm sorry my sewing isn't like your mother's
I'll call her up

I'm sorry I dress kinda boyish
I'm sorry my hair isn't long like the girls in your magazine
I'll grow it out

I know I can't run the world,
'Cause I can't even decide what
To make for dinner
I know that you are stronger than me
Because you are a man
Thank God you are a man

I'm sorry your world is a mess
Don't worry, I'll pour you a beer
So that it doesn't fizz up
You

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