It's the impossibility of womanhood that vexes me The child bride symbol The ability to read eyes and minds Curves more fluid than desert waves The tiny bones of the wrist The organic movement to paint the lips But the heart A woman's heart A woman's heart Much older than the hollowed trees I am the queen who fell upon her sword My servants and descendants each in their turn, a glorious wave But anger is such energy, more beautiful if controlled A slow simmer, the sharpening of teeth But the heart A woman's heart A woman's heart has the patience of the black, black sea Our hands are tied Our voices mute Such was our fate When they cut off our heads Little sisters, you seem so estranged Some may dress and act the glamoured part, but they'll never have A woman's heart (hang your head in shame every time you break) A woman's heart (hang your head in shame every time you break) A woman's heart (hang your head in shame every time you break) A woman's heart burns deadlier than the sleeping beast