I am my mother's savage daughter The one who runs barefoot Cursing sharp stones I am my mother's 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 omens 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's savage daughter The one who runs barefoot Cursing sharp stones I am my mother's savage daughter I will not cut my hair I will not lower my voice My mother's child dances in darkness She sings heathen songs By the light of the moon And watches the stars and renames the planets And dreams she can reach them With a song and a broom I am my mother's savage daughter The one who runs barefoot Cursing sharp stones I am my mother's savage daughter I will not cut my hair I will not lower my voice 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 if thunder and rain We are our mother's savage daughters The ones who run barefoot Cursing sharp stones We are our mother's savage daughters We will not cut our hair We will not lower our voice We are our mother's savage daughters The ones who run barefoot Cursing sharp stones We are our mother's savage daughters We will not cut our hair We will not lower our voice We are our mother's savage daughters The ones who run barefoot Cursing sharp stones We are our mother's savage daughters We will not cut our hair We will not lower our voice
