Gina Young — Punkrockdyke

    	    	Вступление

[Intro]
C  F  Am7  F
C  F  Am7  F


[Verse 1]
C               F
  You kissed my wrist
                  Am7
And my heart just skipped,
                 F
Yeah my jaw near dropped
C             F          Am7 F
  You made my nightmares stop
C            F      Am7         F
  Now waking up is okay, I guess
           C                 F        Am7 F
Except the whole world still wants me dead


[Chorus]
           C
How do you do it? You spit back
Am7            Dm7
Every time you make me laugh
            F
You make construction men cry
       C             Em
You're not afraid of anything
           Dm7           F         C
You're one badass little punk-rock dyke


[Interlude]
C  F  Am7  F
C  F  Am7  F


[Verse 2]
C             F                 Am7 F
  Do you ever stop and think of me?
C            F                      Am7 F
  I think of you when I write graffiti
C            F                    Am7
  I think of you when I'm feeling needy
                F
When some man harasses me
          C                     F           Am7  F
If you're on the streets that's where I'll be


[Chorus]
           C
How do you do it? You spit back
Am7            Dm7
Every time you make me laugh
            F
You make construction men cry
       C             Em
You're not afraid of anything
           Dm7     F
And you're    mine

           C
How do you do it? You spit back
Am7            Dm7
Every time you get me wet
    F
You bleed me dry
           C             Am7       Dm7  F
You're one badass little punk-rock dyke


[Verse 3]
C             F              Am7   F
  If you ever leave I'll be alone
C              F         Am7  F
  I'll want to hide and run
C                     F            Am7         F
  But if I could just know you're okay I'll bet
     C              F           Am7    F
I'll be alone but I won't be scared


[Chorus]
           C
How do you do it? You spit back
Am7            Dm7
Every time you make me laugh
            F
You make construction men cry
       C             Em
You're not afraid of anything
           Dm7     F
And you're    mine

           C
How do you do it? You spit back
Am7            Dm7
Every time you get me wet
    F
You bleed me ficking dry
           C             Am7        Dm7  F
You're one badass little punk-rock dyke


(Spoken over the intro)
Sometimes when I wake Gina, when I walk down the street, go to work,
I can’t help but feel that I’m trapped in a collective nightmare.
That world where I am no one, worn down to nothing. I can lose myself
in a symphony of despair: stares, white noise, white boys, drunk and stumbling.

(Spoken over Chorus 1)
Because women and girls are harassed, beaten, raped, all over the world.
Because we’re expected to not just be kind to our oppressors, to love them,
and to love our oppression, but we are expected and forced to pretend
that sexism is natural and not existing is more than feminism and universalizing.

(Spoken over interlude 1)
The whole world wants me dead too, and you.
We’ve nursed each other, tended the rage, joined the spaces between us,
interjecting internal dialogues of doubt, despair,
I scribble and scream, you sing, try to dream.

(Spoken over Verse 2)
And here’s the thing: George Bush learned one person at a time that people don’t matter.
That women don’t matter. That queers don’t matter. That the poor never mattered.
That whole countries just don’t matter. So when I walk down the street
I know what terror really is. How it came to be and how it lives.

(Spoken over Chorus 2)
Because I believe it is imperative that we as feminists take the time to learn
the history of feminism and feminist movements, to study patriarchy as it plays out daily,
to look for the ways that sexism has shaped our movements and continues to influence us
because I believe that we are asked to be kind, respectful, and loving, generous
towards people who are trying to kill us, knife in hand. Because I believe
we need to be on guard because of men on the streets and the courts and the media and the television.

(Spoken over Verse 3 and Chorus 3)
My shoulders and soul squared against each man. Every Bush minus the money.
Any body who thinks it’s funny, sexy, sweet, or fucking friendly to practice or execute
his power over people, women, queers, countries, on my body. You see, G, we know
that domination can be resisted or assisted by our protest or rage or by a silence we stage.
That little bombs drop over Brooklyn and Queens and the Lower East side all the fucking time.
That some men hold the point of power with the ability to shower those bigger bombs that fall
on some less-powerful man’s country. With each hiss, every “hey miss,” “come here baby,”
through tongues, through fingers, through men’s eyes lingering on women’s bodies,
too fucking long and all fucking wrong. And I know that I matter. That you matter.
That women fucking matter. No matter what anyone else says. Or doesn’t say, and hey,
I’ll never shut up if you never do, too.