I am my mother savage daughter

The one who runs barefoot, cursing sharp stones

I am my mother savage daughterI 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 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