Shyly rounding her shoulders Afraid that the boys, little boys, smutty boys Would see breasts, tender breasts, budding breasts That girls, little girls, nasty girls Would see that she cared, she knew shame, and she learned She had learned Alone with a boy, older boy, smutty boy Bitter taste in her mouth, on her lips, in her soul Hands touching her body, her breasts, tender flesh Him moving inside, telling lies, telling lies Hurting much as it pleased, how it hurt, how it pleased She had learned Working long hours, sour days, angry nights Pleasing the boys, puffed-up men, smutty boys Doing her best, not enough, not enough Fearing the girls, angry girls, nasty girls Would see that she cared, she knew shame, and she learned She had learned Giving her heart and her soul and her time To the boys, so-called men, smutty boys Sharing her life and her tears and her pain With the girls, bitter girls, nasty girls Knowing that they loved Not her heart, not her soul But a mask, crying mask, laughing mask She had learned To pretend To them all To herself Not to care Not to feel Not to love Not to live Not to be Not to be Not to be