Supergirl's Complaint

My tights are drying on the back of the chair.
Comb the bugs and dirt out of my hair.
Rescued some kids from a porno operation,
in a basement in Detroit.
Drew the smack out of junkie's toe.
I left laying grateful on the kitchen floor.
Flew out the window, landed on both feet,
and took off again.

This is a thankless job.
It doesn't pay that well.
maybe it's a feel-good thing for me.
I can't tell. I can't tell.
Look, I may be strong,
but I've only got two arms.
Call that guy in Metropolis
and say "I can't handle this!"

They put the signal out into the clouds.
I dropped my blinds, turned the t.v. up loud,
sank down in my easy chair and said
 [bad word]  Not again."
But I pulled myself up, got my cape and boots,
and my big, red belt that's only for looks.
No special features.
No laureate to round-up evil creatures.

No holidays in this line of work.
No compensation should I get hurt.
I'm getting sick of this.
I mean I get no recognition
for all the things I fix.
I get no respect!
Look, I may be strong,
but I've only got two arms.
Call that guy in Metropolis
and say "Leave me out of this!"