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Tuning: E A D G B E
[Intro] D - F#m [Verse]
Ddon't wanna be somebody's mother F#mdon't wanna be a wife D tell me i'm all that you're scared of F#mcall me king dyke "so Gare you a Bmboy or are you Djust your trauma?" Gi'm not a broBmken thing or Done or the other
[Chorus]
Dsweet cis teen, F#msweet cis teen Dsweet cis teen, F#msweet cis teen
[Verse]
Di can't leave the house every time i F#mbleed per month Dcan't reclaim what you don't know as F#mdysphoria and Gi don't Bmhate myDself Gi'm just a Bmdead name, and Dyou're in my way
Dsweet cis teen, F#msweet cis teen Dsweet cis teen, F#msweet cis teen
[Spoken Word] F#m - A - D - C#m to be trans is to be your own pall bearer— to carry the weight of a dead person around with you. if my gender could be sold, it wouldn't fit inside the pages of ms. magazine. my gender can't speak, but even if it could, it'd stay hidden in the corner of every room trying to keep quiet anyway. learn to piece my parts together on an assembly line— learn to code a language where i am not excluded if my gender had a pair of arms, it'd point out all the rallies i didn't get the invitation for. how in the second wave we fought for gender equality and limited the number to two. if my gender had legs, it would sprint. catch up with all the progress that feminism is making. all the FUCKING progress that T.E.R.F. feminism is making.