Boy in a Dress

When I was a little girl
Free as a bird
Painting my world
I filled it with colors like birthday balloons
When I was seven years old
Out on the road
I once was called:
«A girl, you can tell by the way that she throws»
When I was only nine
Doing just fine
Stay in the lines
Fill in the dots with the picture you see
But I never saw no picture like me
When I was only thirteen
I looked at me
I could have seen
A girl or a boy in a dress or a girl
Boy in a dress or a girl or a boy in a dress
What I call hard
Seems so damn easy for everybody else
Fifteen became twenty-one
Man, I was gone
But I had some fun
When I was not passed out on somebody’s lawn
Oh no…
Twenty-one turned twenty-five
Turned twenty-nine
Biding my time
Trying to hide from the things I could feel
Hide from the things I could feel
I could hide
What I call hard
Seems so damn easy for everybody else
When I was just thirty-three
I looked at me
I could have seen
A girl or a boy in a dress, or a girl
Boy in a dress or a girl or a boy in a dress
Or a girl, or a boy in a dress
Or a girl