|
Strange things happen in nighttime hours |
|
Yesterday's buds, tomorrow's flowers |
|
Those who speak numbers, refuse the great forgiver |
|
Powerful men raise your hands and deliver |
|
All the superstitions to which we all cling |
|
While high minds in |
|
Geneva ponder e8 vs. string |
|
The sun hides itself, concealing its grin |
|
And waits for the dawn to reveal itself again |
|
Oh, young cardinals |
|
Nesting in the trees |
|
Oh, hear our songs |
|
And reign your innocence on me |
|
Strange things happen in the nighttime hours |
|
White tails graze and wolves devour |
|
Ghosts of old loves are blowing through the pines |
|
Nicotine babies are being born without spines |
|
The god of the sea is swinging his trident |
|
We stoke our fires with the bones of tyrants |
|
The sun, it retreats through the dust and the din |
|
And waits for the dawn to reveal itself again |
|
Oh, young cardinals |
|
Nesting in the trees |
|
Oh, hear our song |
|
And reign your innocence on me |
|
Young cardinals take flight |
|
Return to nest in the black of night |
|
There were things you were not meant to know |
|
Young cardinals take flight |
|
Return to nest in the black of night |
|
There were things you were not meant to know |
|
Oh, young cardinals |
|
Nesting in the trees |
|
Oh, hear our song |
|
And reign your innocence on me |
|
Oh, young cardinals |
|
Oh, young cardinals |
|
Oh, young cardinals |
|
Oh |