Well we pounded the pavement betweendotted linesBut we always belonged to thefugitive kindWe were never the best but we werebetter than thisTo be made to bow down among princesI got thrown around hallways andbedrooms and townsAnd you run from that voice andit drags you aroundIt don t matter the ruse or theweapons we chooseThere is only one thing that can free usOh so here I amThe lion and the lambI was born to be telling this storyI could only be telling this storyI will always be telling this storyWell our father married ourmother too youngAnd he took on a world like afortunate sonBut in the cellar downstairs waitingfor the bomb scareHe would hide from us under the kitchenWhere she simmered so soft withher weapons of tinAnd like so many suppers she justgave us to himAnd he never did guess in her castiron dressShe was burning beyond recognitionOh it s not over yetI can t forgetI am going to be telling this storyI was born to be telling this storyI will always be telling this storySometimes I feel so reckless and wildSometimes I feel like a motherless childI gave nobody lifeI am nobody s wifeAnd I seem to be nobody s daughterSo red is the color that I like the bestIt s your Indian skin and the badgeon my chestThe heat of my prideThe lips of a brideThe sad heart of the truthAnd the flag of youthAnd blood that is thicker than waterI was made to be telling this storyI was born to be telling this storyI am going to be telling this storyI could only be telling this storyI will always be telling this story

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