I am a Woman, not your slave, not your plaything
And I was not created from your rib at all
What fairy tales you’ve invented!
Now if you think I just want to be a man
Well, then, you still haven’t learned what I am
Long have you punished me in fear and in envy
Of the Goddess in me from which you hide your eyes
A beast of burden you would have me
Who was once the proud Vessel of Life
From your queen I’ve come down to your wife
But when flowers have been cruelly uprooted
Torn by fools from the earth where they best may thrive
In barren desert transplanted
Bowing down in the shadow of a Tomb
Is it a wonder that so few of them bloom?
Much have I suffered from your god and your prophets
I’ve been burned for a Witch, I’ve been stoned for a whore
I have been buried alive
In the shroud of the myths you speak
When you keep telling me I’m stupid and weak
The masterpieces you’ve created are many
Mine die a-borning in your kitchen and bed
How hard you’ve tried to impress me
As I’ve sat with your children on my knee
But now it’s time that you listened to me
For the Goddess sings both softly and loudly
In a lullaby croon or a scream of pain
And if in some She’s still silent
Then in others, She’s loud and clear
And She’ll keep singing till the whole world can hear
