|
He sees the stormy anger of the world |
|
And wants no part of it at all |
|
And as the weeping leaves of autumn curl |
|
He feels the savage winter call |
|
See far below the dust of conflict settles on the hill |
|
Where there was no escape before |
|
And as he spreads his wings and soars up to another level |
|
He brings the icy prophecies of war |
|
Black crow, black crow, tell me where you really go |
|
When you fly into the sunset, high in evening sky |
|
Black crow, black crow, tell me what you really know |
|
Will we flourish in this hurricane, or will we fall and die? |
|
While children lose their souls and so much more |
|
To ragged armies of the field |
|
A vicious fanfare cries appeasing hungry savages |
|
To trigger that their fate is surely sealed |
|
I wonder where that black crow sleeps as day beckons the night |
|
Or if he even sleeps at all |
|
I wonder what he thinks of all the human traffic far below |
|
That's struggled on the road so, so long |
|
Tell me black crow, black crow silently you pass above |
|
Understanding everything but you know nothing at all |
|
Black crow black crow, tell me what you really know |
|
Do you understand the pain that we feel down here at all |
|
Black crow, black crow, tell me where you really go |
|
When you fly into the sunset, high in evening sky |
|
Black crow, black crow, tell me what you really know |
|
Will we flourish in this hurricane, or will we fall and die? |
|
Will we flourish in this hurricane, or will we fall and die? |
|
Will we flourish in this hurricane, or will we fall and die? |
