Ingenue, what have we done to you? Under that soft skin I hear a tickin' The currency of being 23 It turns from gold to dust When you crest the wave of lust So take all you can From the mouth of man Ingenue, framed like a cartoon The borders clear and defined The colors bold and bright You want to be taken more seriously But they just play you cute And it's such a hard thing to do So take all you can From the mouth of man And escape from this town Before your sand runs out Ingenue, what will become of you When age's glacial pace Cuts valleys into your face The currency of being 23 It will remain the same Just by another name Oh Ingenue, what will you do? Ingenue, what have we done to you?