I am my mother savage daughter
The one who runs barefoot, cursing sharp stones
I am my mother savage daughter
I will not cut my hair, I will not lower my voice
My mother's child is a savage
She looks for her romance in the colors of stones
In the faces of cats, in the falling of feathers
In the dancing of fire, in the curve of old bones
I am my mother savage daughter
The one who runs barefoot, cursing sharp stones
I am my mother savage daughter
I will not cut my hair, I will not lower my voice
My mother's child dances in the darkness
She sings heathen songs by the light of the moon
And watches the stars, and renames the planets
And dream she can reach them with a song and a broom!
(Ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh)
(Ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh)
(Ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh)
(Ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah-ah!)
We are all brought forth out of darkness
Into this world, through blood and through pain
And deep in our bones, the old songs are waking
So sing them with voices of thunder and rain
We are our mother savage daughters
The one who runs barefoot, cursing sharp stones
We are our mother savage daughters
We will not cut our hair
We will not lower our voice
