When at the bar, observed by leering men’s eyes,
We stick together, for we all relate,
And curse into the night our drunken cries,
And look upon ourselves with self-criticism and hate,
Wishing ourselves like to those more rich in shape,
Featured like them, with whom men are all obsessed,
Desiring this man’s affections and that man’s gaze,
With what we most enjoy made an unsafe feat;
With jealous thoughts, ourselves almost despising,
Slurring, I think on we and then our state,
(Like to our foremothers at break of day arising
From oppressive place) we sing Taylor Swift with drunken mates;
For sisterhood experienced such wealth brings
That then we storm to change our state with kings.