Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the lord my soul to keep;
but laying there, awake at night,
my mind too full to fall asleep.
I open the window, and look at
twinkling stars rush by,
What good is my soul to be kept
in a vessel as unfitting as mine?
I pray when I lay down to sleep,
and when I awake and in the middle
of the day, but no matter what I say
There’s no changing whom I am.
Boys will be boys, girls will be girls,
too, that’s how the adults’ saying goes
but whom will I be, whom can I be, if
anyone but me?
So I pray the lord my soul not to take,
not before one day I can finally wake,
I can finally wake.