You write about a place so dear, in all its good and evil
A loving cup, an aching scar, you need no thread and needle
To sew your name into your clothes or hem a ragged line
All muscular and luminous, oh, heroine of mine
Ladies
Oh, ladies
My ladies
My fair and tender ladies
My fair and tender ladies
You raised yourself from mud and spit and opened up your eyes
Stretching out your graceful limbs, from heart and soul on fire
From sidewalks and handlebars, summer sun and evening stars
And unincorporated streets, oh, heroine I long to meet
Ladies
Oh, ladies
My ladies
My fair and tender ladies
My fair and tender ladies
La-dies, la-dies, la-dies, la-a-dies
You set aside your trays and flowers, like a ball and chain
You understood a time and place upon which you proclaimed
Your skirt was not to hide behind, your womanhood, no alibi
You would not live so man could die, oh, white-gloved heroine of mine
Ladies
Oh, ladies
My ladies
My fair and tender ladies
My fair and tender ladies
My fair and tender ladies
My fair and tender ladies