Why do little girls have to grow up to look like hookers?

I was saddened to see a young woman of maybe 16 recently who I hadn't seen since she was a little girl. And I was so sorry to see that she had grown from a lovely girl (with the kind of face that the rest of us put make up on to try to look like her), and now looked like if she happened to be standing on a certain corner in a certain part of town at the right time of night, I'm pretty sure she could get some work. Her clothing, posture, and face all said, "Come and get it."

It reminds me of a goofy song I wrote a long time ago but never did anything with. It's what happens when a married woman writes a song meant to be sung by a single guy. I can't record it myself, and can't find anyone else who will do it. Here are the words. I called it Putrefaction, from the N.A.S.B. version of Isaiah 3.


Putrefaction

Well when God created Eve, He saw that beautiful was she
The most beautiful of all His creation
And I know there waits for me one just as beautiful as she
One whose spirit is like myrrh, not putrefaction

If He pulled out your earrings and shaved your head bald
If He washed all the color from your face
Would you still be a beauty dressed in sack cloth and ashes
With only a rope around your waist?

I can see you spent some time looking good on the outside
But did you pay enough attention to your soul?
You see, I'm looking for a bride who cares less about being mine
But has a zeal about belonging to the Lord

If He pulled out your earrings and shaved your head bald
If He washed all the color from your face
Would you still be a beauty dressed in sack cloth and ashes
With only a rope around your waist?

I want the beauty of an unfading spirit
In the quiet hidden place of the heart
I want the glow of a girl that loves Jesus more than me
In the quiet hidden place of her heart

Daughter of Zion, don't use your charm
To buy love that you cannot hold
Seek first His Kingdom and His righteousness
Light your countenence with more than just
Makeup and gold

If He pulled out your earrings and shaved your head bald
If He washed all the color from your face
Would you still be a beauty dressed in sack cloth and ashes
With only a rope around your waist?

I want the beauty of an unfading spirit
In the quiet hidden place of the heart
I want the glow of a girl that loves Jesus more than me
In the quiet hidden place of her heart