Из альбома: The Woman's Boat
the wild bride lives
in the back of a forest
on a black dark path
her feet are like tree roots
her hands of vines
and she holds you and she will entwine
dreams, she finds out are shattered like a knife
and she hopes that somewhere along the line
and she might find--she has thorns and she scars
and she will leave her mark
she's the wild one
she's the wild bride
the wild bride asks
and hopes for the future
and children, an abundance of them
but a ball and a chain and war, her domain
she wants them no longer this way
dreams she finds out are shattered like a knife
and she hopes that somewhere along the line
she might find--
can I tear back the veils that are here?
resisting the white gown I fear
for the wildness in me wants to exist
why must I wear these tattered old dresses
and white lace over my gown
and why must I be a barbie doll figure
like on a cake, on a crown
why does it have to be?
can I change the loop on the wild bride
underneath? and her dreams
she finds out are shattered by life
and she hopes that somwhere along the line
she might find--love
the wild bride falls to the earth
a sacrifice
no one can break from this ball and chain
of this wild bride
the thorns in her hands
and a rest for her skins
and belly filled with gold
and seed like a pomegranate
and roots for her limbs
and telling you she'll wrap you with sin