When you catch the light You look like your mother It crushes me some, Just right from the side When you catch the light There's a flash of wild creatures, Before the Stone Age of the preachers, And the husbands, and the wives When you catch the light The flood changes direction, And darkens the lens That projects my disguise As you fight along-side, You'll discover my weakness I'm not fighting for your freedom, I am fighting to be wild. "Hey, little girl, would you like to be The king's pet or the king?" "I'd choose odorless and invisible, But otherwise I would choose the king. Even though it sounds the loneliest... And my brother's hands would poison me." "Hey, little girl, would you like to be The king's pet or the king?" "I'd choose odorless and invisible, But otherwise I would choose the king, Even though it sounds melodious... There's no mother's hands to quiet me."