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O'connor Sinead I Still Do Not Want What I Haven't Got Three Babies Each of these My three babies I will carry with me For myself I ask no one else will be Mother to these three And of course I'm like a wild horse But there's no other way I could be Water + feed Are not tools that I need For the thing that I've chosen to be In my soul My blood + my bones I have wrapped your cold bodies around me The face on you The smell of you Will always be with me Each of these My three babies I was not willing to leave Though I tried I blasphemed + denied I know they will be returned to me Each of these My babies Have brought you closer to me No longer mad like a horse I'm still wild but not lost From the thing that I've chosen to be And it's 'cos you've thrilled me Silenced me Stilled me Proved things I never believed The face on you The smell of you Will always be with me |
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