I have sung this song and many like this, sitting by the fire side, May be it was me or May be it was my grand mothers. My wise circle of women, My Ancestors, my mothers speak to me thru this song. My Mothers who were cut down for raising voices, Who were burnt for being clever. I owe it to you , I m your Savage daughter, I will not lower my voice.
ps: I m a the savage daughter, but Mother has different kind of daughters the kind daughter, the peace keeper daughter, the caring daughter , the wild and sexy daughter :-) We are all her daughters.
ps1: Gift -Turkish series on Netflix, is all about this
ps2: Aishwarya Rai is definitely not a savage daughter ! haha
I am my mother's savage daughterThe one who runs barefootCursing sharp stonesI am my mother's savage daughterI will not cut my hairI will not lower my voice
My mother's child is a savageShe looks for her omens in the colors of stonesIn the faces of cats, in the falling of feathersIn the dancing of fireIn the curve of old bones
I am my mother's savage daughterThe one who runs barefootCursing sharp stonesI am my mother's savage daughterI will not cut my hairI will not lower my voice
My mother's child dances in darknessShe sings heathen songsBy the light of the moonAnd watches the stars and renames the planetsAnd dreams she can reach themWith a song and a broom
I am my mother's savage daughterThe one who runs barefootCursing sharp stonesI am my mother's savage daughterI will not cut my hairI will not lower my voice
We are all brought forth out of darknessInto this world, through blood and through painAnd deep in our bones, the old songs are wakingSo sing them with voices if thunder and rain
We are our mother's savage daughtersThe ones who run barefootCursing sharp stonesWe are our mother's savage daughtersWe will not cut our hairWe will not lower our voice
We are our mother's savage daughtersThe ones who run barefootCursing sharp stonesWe are our mother's savage daughtersWe will not cut our hairWe will not lower our voice
We are our mother's savage daughtersThe ones who run barefootCursing sharp stonesWe are our mother's savage daughtersWe will not cut our hairWe will not lower our voice
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