Sinead O'Connor Three Babies
each of these my three babies I will carry with me for myself I ask no one else will be mother to these three and of course I'm like a wild horse but there's no other way I could be water + feed are not tools that I need for the thing that I've chosen to be in my soul my blood + my bones I have wrapped your cold bodies around me the face on you the smell of you will always be with me each of these my three babies I was not willing to leave though I tried I blasphemed + denied I know they will be returned to me each of these my babies have brought you closer to me no longer mad like a horse I'm still wild but not lost from the thing that I've chosen to be and it's 'cos you've thrilled me silenced me stilled me proved things I the face on you the smell of you will always be with me.