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Young girl or a pretty meal?
The line is just so fine
Little Red walked out alone
Joining the buffet of the night
See the wolves, they wait and watch and howl, hoping for a bite
Of fresh meat on a busy street
The minute you're out of sight
Little Red walked out alone
Joining the buffet of the night
But Little Red, she knows these streets
So why should she be afraid?
She walks out with her blood-red cloak
But red's his favorite shade
You'll attract the wrong attention
Wearing colors such as those
Boys will be boys, wolves will be wolves
But what does mother know
"Feed us your girls," the wolves shout out
Feed us the ones with curves, the ones without
Feed us your girls from plate to mouth
Honey, you're the entrée when you dress like that
And mother's not around
Dawn arrives and dinner scraps
Are on the street from just last night
People whisper, it's her fault
With a red so very bright
A silly girl, a common whore
Someone cover up that sight
No one likes to see leftovers by the dawning light
And there's a buffet every night
Little Red, she knew those woods
Each tree and every stone
Doesn't matter either way
When there's a wolf inside your home
You can hear the growling
So you throw the dog a bone
You'll catch more bees with honey dear
But what does mother know?
"Feed us your girls," the wolves shout out
Feed us the ones with curves, the ones without
Feed us your girls from plate to mouth
Honey, you're the entrée when you dress like that
Little Red was not a meal
A little girl is not a tease
A cloak is not an invitation for what's underneath
Our 'no' does not mean 'yes'
There's no riddle, there's no test
Blood-red clothes alone at night shouldn't equal death
But the wolves are very hungry
Gnashing pointed teeth
Don't care what the wrappers like
It'll eat you if you breathe
So maybe it doesn't matter
How we choose to wrap our skin
'Cause you'd prefer to blame the girl
Than deal with your own sin
"Feed us your girls," the wolves shout out
Feed us the ones with curves, the ones without
Feed us your girls from plate to mouth
Honey, you're the entrée when you dress like that
And mother's not around