The wind's a blowing, and we're filled with knowing.
Let's confess to this duress. Let's undress this distress, and take off these clothes, counterfeit, weaved out of webs of hate and spit.
Let's unzip these skins that stuff us in and magick up some scales, tails, and fins.
Let's swim!
We're floating and gloating. We're three hurricanes, contained in our glass-bottom boating.
The wind's howling and the waves are yowling. Let's swirl around in an unbreakable bond of a compound.
Happiness is telling our old battle stories, our gories, our gaslit-not-so-many glories. They make us feel we’re alright... They make us feel so close, so tight.
Bangs out! Fangs out! Sisters with clout! Hear our screams and shouts. We're sucking up all the doubt.
We bled out the monsters. We're no longer victims. We are the survivors. We stay true to our dictums.
We changed our history, made a new mystery, harnessed our bitchery, into masterful witchery.
We're cycle-breakers, soul-shakers, childhood re-makers, watch-makers, time-travel takers, repressed-emotion-wakers, nurturers and home-makers, anything but fakers.
Siren sisters, abuse resisters, water twisters.
We hypnotize the old, dirty pirates and wretched old sea witches with tales of love and healing.
We lure with lullabies, lyrics appealing until their hearts start once again feeling. Back they go into their cribs, they’re reeling, until their own trauma’s done with dealing.
We forgive you. Fare thee well… We’ve built a heaven out of your hell.
We can't let them win or get under our skin, our scales, our fins…
