The pole isn't growing in my black solid sky, solid skynAnd pirate ships pulled these shoulders backnBut in morning slumber, I gripped the slender palm of my handnAnd I felt the soft of my flesh and I stared into my sister selfnnAnd we was running, running, runningnWe was climbing, we was fightingnWe was breathing fast, praying pleasenWe were singing, we were dancingnWe were clapping, singing, dancing, clappingnnWe were returning to the hillsnBringing buckets drawn from the wellsnReturning to the hillsnBringing buckets drawn from the wellsnnBut I've got to hold my own handnI've got to hold my own handnAnd this is my skin I feelnAnd these are the teeth that I clenchnAnd the hazel of my sightnPlus the colors she wears is minenO that color she's wearing is minennAnd we was running, running, runningnWe was climbing, we was fightingnWe was breathing fast, praying pleasenWe were singing, we was dancingnWe was clapping, singing, dancing, clappingnnWe were returning to the hillsnBringing buckets drawn from the wellsnWe were returning to the hillsnBringing buckets drawn from the wells