I Really Am A Boy

I Really Am A Boy!
With thanks to the Who. One wonders if it was really written with this in mind.

One girl was called Jean Marie. Another little girl was called Felicity
Another little girl was Sally Joy. The other was me, and I'm a boy
My name is Bill, and I'm a head case, they practice making up on my face
Yeah, I feel lucky if I get trousers to wear, spend evenings taking hairpins from my hair

My sisters were the bane of my life, insisting that they could dress me like their own, personal, Barbie Doll. It was terrible for me as I had to try to look like the boy I was when I went to school. I got ribbed on a good day, bullied on a bad one.

I'm a boy, I'm a boy
But my ma won't admit it
I'm a boy, I'm a boy
But if I say I am, I get it

Whenever I complained to my mother she always had the same speech. “You are a girl, Miss Violet Willow. I will have no more of your stupidity.”

Put your frock on, Jean Marie, plait your hair, Felicity
Paint your nails, little Sally Joy, put this wig on, little boy
I want to play cricket on the green, ride my bike across the street
Cut myself and see my blood, I want to come home all covered in mud

I can cut myself any time I want, I just have to draw this razor blade across my arm and I see my wonderful red boys blood seeping out. If I ever grow tits they will be the first to go when I get old enough. That’ll show them that I really am Bill.

Marianne G 2020



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