Our woman’s lot, my mother says,
To bear children and not use our heads.
Yet words have sprung before my eyes,
Bringing me hope and freedom to try.
CHORUS
A moment has come,
One I never believed.
Should I do nothing
Or say that I can read?
The Smallman King who hid away,
Gave me courage to think and say
My thoughts despite disagreement and pain.
In turmoil I wait, for a choice must be made.
REPEAT CHORUS
BRIDGE
Know your place, the lot life casts.
Do not make a scene when the danger is vast.
Yet no one else will take a stand.
Perhaps a weakling has a place in the Song-Giver’s plan.
Our woman’s lot, my mother says,
To bear children and not use our heads.
Yet words have sprung before my eyes,
Opening doors to adventures untried.
Tag: Opening doors to adventures untried.
No comments:
Post a Comment