He tries to push the dial
Like he can gain some ground
Like woman is an apparatus
Made for making sound
And he throws his words at me
About a mother and a child
But what he doesn’t realise
Is I am made of wild
And never will reign in 
My subtle impulse free
For what he makes of castles
And what he makes of me
In the ages that pass
In the cash that he can’t earn
In the way the wheat and chaff
Can both make a fire burn
I never will be held 
Past what I’m meant to be
I don’t think he knows at all
To be female is to see
All that’s between the lines
Of religion that can’t count
It’s not a man’s world at all
It’s just what I’m about