Chorus: 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 and the fall of feathers,
In the dancing of fire and the curve of old bones.
My mother's child dances in darkness
and 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.
My mother's child curses too loud and too often.
My mother's child laughs too hard and too long
And howls at the moon and sleeps in ditches
And clumsily raises her voice in this song
Now we all are brought forth out of darkness and water,
Brought 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's savage daughter--
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. (x3)
music/lyrics c. 1990 Karen Unrein Kahan
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