Joan Heather Dale

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I am as God made me, I have no desire
For a mouth at my breast or a pot on the fire
I heed the higher voices; I go where I'm sent
To mow down the men who refuse to repent
I'm a scythe, in a field full of briars

And they won't call me Mother, or Sister, or Wife
They will know me or not by the strength of my life
I will burn with a light of my own
They'll know me as Joan
They'll know me as Joan

The courage of Catherine, the flames of the forge
Sword of Saint Michael, the blood of Saint George
I take what I'm given, I follow my truth
I gladly abandon the bloom of my youth
I'm the lashing, that falls from the scourge

And they won't call me Mother, or Sister, or Wife
They will know me or not by the strength of my life
I will burn with a light of my own
They'll know me as Joan
They'll know me as Joan

Christem ducem
Poena fortis
Et sanguinis effusio
Corda terant
Ut te quaerant
Ieso, nostra redemptio