Sculptor, I\'m not your sculpture
I\'m not made of clay
You can\'t mold me, you can\'t control me
God made me this way
I am made of flesh and bone
and I move with love and laughter
I see I can\'t trust my heart in the hands of a sculptor
You\'ll carve it out then put it back when you want to have your way
I\'d rather have a boy to love me formless, love me shapeless, and take me as I am
Not only when I\'m ready for display