ROSA'S LOVELY DAUGHTERS

Who’s that walking miles for water?


Who’s that sweatshopping all the day long


In the hot south, in the cold north,


Who are these so proud and strong?


From the workbench in the backroom


To the cradle at the side of the bed


From mad mothers to peace campers


Who are these seeing red?



We are Rosa’s lovely daughters


We are no man’s blushing bride


We are Rosa’s lovely daughters


And we will not be denied



Well our fathers handshake their bargains


While their good wives stand around and they weep


But our hearts sing while we’re dancing


We are no man’s to give or to keep

We are Rosa’s lovely daughters
We are no man’s blushing bride
We are Rosa’s lovely daughters
And we will not be denied
 


Wearing white scarves in the Plaza


Burning passbooks in the centre of town:


We are wildfire in the backyard,


And that big white house is a-burning down



We are Rosa’s lovely daughters


We are no man’s blushing bride


We are Rosa’s lovely daughters


And we will not be denied
 

Robb Johnstone