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I'll not have her for your wife
I'll not have her for your wife
Partners, you two, to pain and strife
And spit from those'll stain your life
I'll not have her for your wife
You were born to be a girl
With furrowed brow and short brown curls
Not shoulders hunched or chest constrained
Or eyes downcast with swift refrain
You were born to me a girl
So I'll not have you for a son
I'll not have you for a son
Whence? From this womb your life was sprung
Don't tell me that my daughter's done
Don't tell me that my daughter's done
And some with stitch and stethoscope
They'll leave you on, they'll give you hope
Some dreams we dare to entertain
But others only lead to shame
I tell you cold, I tell you cope
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