Wild Creatures

When you catch the light

You look like your mother

It crushes me some,

Just right from the side

There s a flash of wild creatures,

Before the Stone Age of the preachers,

And the husbands, and the wives

The flood changes direction,

And darkens the lens

That projects my disguise

As you fight along-side,

You ll discover my weakness

I m not fighting for your freedom,

I am fighting to be wild.

Hey, little girl, would you like to be

The king s pet or the king?

I d choose odorless and invisible,

But otherwise I would choose the king.

Even though it sounds the loneliest...

And my brother s hands would poison me.

But otherwise I would choose the king,

Even though it sounds melodious...

There s no mother s hands to quiet me.