The Narrator

I came of age in the scene with boys in eyeliner and girls’ jeans
Each one a better, bitter version of me
They made it very clear who got to tell the stories
And I knew all my idols were something I’d never be

Do you need your narrator to look like you?
Will you still sing along?
Do you stop to notice who is singing
And who gets to own the songs?

We got a lot of practice belting songs with female villains
Mentally blacking out words but “holding onto the feelings”
Caught up in catharsis and the sensе of belonging
While half-understanding that it was ironic

Do you need your narrator to look likе you?
Will you still sing along?
Do you stop to notice who is singing
And who gets to own the songs?

Show me the people with something to say
Let’s amplify the voices of those who feel left out and afraid
Let’s normalize being yourself and letting go of the noise that stands in the way

Do you need your narrator to look like you?
Will you still sing along?
Do you stop to notice who is singing
And who gets to own the songs?