Text: Elvis Costello. You Belong To Me.

What are you girls gonna tell your mother?
I don't want to hear another word about young lovers
or hiding your boyfriend in the cupboard.
She's been to see the doctor, so you hope that she recovers.
You act dumb.
You say you're so numb.
You say you don't come
under his thumb.

Don't wanna be a goody-goody.
I don't want just anybody.
No, I don't want anybody
saying 'You belong to me. You belong to me.'

Your eyes are absent, your mouth is silent;
pumping like a fire hydrant.
Things you see are getting hard to swallow.
You're easily led, but you're much too scared to follow.

You've been warned.
You're going to get torn.
No uniform is gonna keep you warm.