You teach me how to be a man,
Though I am someone’s daughter.
The path of warrior was set for me
And I had to try on the armor.
No it doesn’t suit me
And it feels so heavy!
I’m frightened
And so ashamed.
That I have to combat the world alone,
That I have to swing my sword alone.
So my gentleness is turned into rigidity.
And once soft the skin is nothing but the scale.
One by one I lead unequal fights, eventually
The beauty’s nose is broken, and I faint
Life feeds me bullets and stones
And I stitch myself up alone.
If I cry I will run my tears
Inside of my blood-stained cheeks.
I’ve found talents beyond comprehension,
All my battles are a sight to behold.
Wading through the hardship alone
Translating my body to soul!
Oh brutal world! I’m not your enemy.
This role of warrior brings nothing but the misery!
If a woman’s wings are trimmed
And her radiance is dimmed,
This is over. This is over!
You will see her ride a broom.
With a force to be reckoned,
To be no longer the second,
I am no longer a daughter!
I eat them for breakfast,
I eat them for lunch,
I have audacity to throw the first punch!
I dwell in the shadows.
I sleep in the light.
I am no longer a daughter.
I throw the first punch!