Marisela W · Castration

To sing the high pitched sound
To be a boy in town
The dreaded word to hear
Is castration.

I sing the high pitched sound
I love to sing out loud
I’m in the lord’s favour
Mistral’s fingers I shall own
But let my tender bits alone?

I wish to sing my way
To the courts of Rome
To places far away
But surely it should be fashion
To let a boy become a man
And let a man’s voice sing out loud.

I have done no wrong
Just danced a dance
Just sung a song
But my lord’s men have come today
I’m to be his minstrel in a day
To the healer, I must not stray
I shall not ‘come a man.
For my voice
For my future
As a boy.