For brave girls there is no sanctuary,
stormy waters spur us like waves,
echoes of silence decks our diary;
got guts, we have no path in graves.
We are the womb of tomorrow,
the tomb of treats and terror;
sailing against the tides of sorrow,
not to be eroded by tidal errors.
Pain is part of the party, we dance
still when the music goes mad;
oppression makes strong our stance,
better we get when things go bad.
Rope the rapist... tame the terrorists,
vengeance to us is not a choice,
save our soul from stormy sadists,
hear budding roses ring in one voice.
We charm and change the world
with our beauty, brain and brawn;
don't rule and ruin our world,
let each dusk birth new dawn.
Our fruits are stolen and boles broken
parasites sap nectar before dawn;
but deep within we stand, unshaken,
golden grapes litters the lawn.