I don’t know why I keep this mask.
It doesn’t fit me – it never has.
And now I’ve figured out this mess,
It seems to fit me even less.
I would much rather wear a dress…

But where I’m from, the risk’s too high.
When I still look like a guy
(In many ways – I hate them all),
If I step outside the door
With these clothes that I adore,
What sort of danger would I call?

But I can’t waste my life away
And live a lie until the day
I’ll get to look a certain way.

In the end, it’s up to me
To find the courage that I need
And be the girl I wish to be.

– Lady Scarecrow