Joan

I [Am]am as god m[C]ade me
I [Am]have no des[D]ire
For a[Am] mouth at my [G]breast
Or [Am]a pot on the [D]fire
I [Am]heed the higher [C]voices,
I [Am]go where I'm [D]sent
To [Am]mow down the [G]men who ref[Am]use to re[D]pent
I'm a [C]scythe
In a [Am]field full of [G]briars

And they [Am]won't call me mother
Or [C]sister or wife
They will [D]know me or not
by the [G]strenght of my life
I will [C]burn with a light of my [Am]own
They'll [C]know me as [G]Joan

The c[Am]ourage of Cat[C]herine,
The f[Am]lames of the f[D]orge,
The [Am]Sword of St. M[G]ichael,
The [Am]blood of St. G[D]eorge,
I [Am]take what I'm [C]given,
I fo[Am]llow my t[D]ruth,
I gl[Am]adly ab[G]andon the [Am]bloom of my [D]youth,
I'm the l[C]ashing,
that [Am]falls from the [G]scourge.

Last verse and chorus the same.