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Sonic wind, honing in, on a tune that no one can hear |
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Perfect pitch, simple glitch, promises it would never appear |
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In the skies, disguised |
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Change in direction where birds never fly nor roam |
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Lie 'neath green valleys and wait for the call to come |
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Firetail bats, poised to attack |
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To set ablaze the rafters and the roofs |
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Until the plan leaves the hand |
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Burns the site down to the ground |
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Through the ground |
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Craters are carving and wounds are left to weep |
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Sink to the table filtering through the years |
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Closing behind the nightmarish fears that run deep |
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Down in green valleys wait for the call to come |
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When it's all over and the empty quarter |
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Returns to the emptiness again |
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5000 miles over airplane graveyards |
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Landmass oceans wide. Over continents |
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A sonic wind honing in on a tune no one can hear |
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Perfect pitch, simple glitch, promises |
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Over the skies - in disguise |
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Change in direction |
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A sonic wind is blowing |
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And the fire it is burning |
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Down in green valleys where birds never fly nor roam |
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Over airplane graveyards, wait for the call to come |
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And the sonic wind is whistling |
