I lay alone awake at night. Sorrow fills my eyes. But I'm not strong enough to cry. Despite of my disguise. I'm left with no shoulder. But everybody wants to lean on me.
Satellites. Flashing by. It's a beautiful state were in. But how can we love in isolation. Think how happy we can be. If we just try. We're nothing like we seem.
We built sand castles that washed away. I made you cry when I walked away. And although I promised that I couldn't stay, baby. Every promise don't work out that way, oh, babe.
Girls, we run this motha (yeah!). . Girls, we run this motha (yeah!). Girls, we run this motha (yeah!). Girls, we run this motha (yeah!). Girls!. Who run the world? Girls!.
Girls, we run this motha. Girls, we run this motha. Girls, we run this motha. Girls, we run this motha. . Girls, who run the world? Girls. Who run the world? Girls.
[Verse 1: Beyoncé]. These four lonely walls have changed the way I feel. The way I feel, I'm standing still. And nothing else matters now, you're not here.
Let me sit this ass. On you. Show you how, I feel. Let me take this off. While you watch me? (watch me). Yes, mass appeal. Don't take your eyes. Don't take your eyes off it.
Oh oh oh I, oh oh oh I. . If I wrote a book about where we stand. The title of my book would be "Life with Superman". That's how you make me feel. I count you as a privilege.
I'm the matriarch of your land. When you need to take my hand. Come into my arms, I'll keep you safe from harm. I'll keep your precious heart. . Some people try to drag you down.
Mama, I understand your many sleepless nights. When you sit and you think about Father. Or how you tried to be the perfect twice. . You used to dress and fix your hair.
Ring the alarm. I been through this too long. But I'll be damned if I see another chick on your arm. Won't you ring the alarm?. I been through this too long.
I wish I could believe you. Then I'd be alright. But now everything you told me. Really don't apply. To the way I feel inside. Loving you was easy. Once upon a time.
I be on the hotline, like err'day. Makin' sure the DJ know what I want him to play. You know I got my top back and my beat low. Rockin' my stunna shades and turnin' up my radio.
Boy, you'll be the death of me. You're my James Dean. You make me feel like I'm seventeen. You drive too fast. You smoke too much. But that don't mean a thing cause I'm addicted to the rush.
Mama said, you're a pretty girl. What's in your head it doesn't matter. Brush your hair, fix your teeth. What you wear is all that matters. . Just another stage.
All the single ladies (all the single ladies). All the single ladies (all the single ladies). All the single ladies (all the single ladies). All the single ladies.
You can taste the dishonesty, it's all over your breath. As you pass it off so cavalier, but even that's a test. Constantly aware of it all, my lonely ear.
Let me hear you say "Hey Ms. Carter" (Hey Ms. Carter). Say "Hey Ms. Carter" (Hey Ms. Carter). Give me some!. . See me up in the club with fifty-leven girls.
You're bad for me I clearly get it. I don't see how something good could come from loving you. The death of me must be your mission. Cause with every hug and kiss you're snatching every bit of strain.
Who wants that perfect love story any way, anyway. Cliché, Cliché. Cliché, Cliché. Who wants that hero love that saves the day, anyway. Cliché, Cliché.