will the wind that scatters dust,
reveal its secrets,
speak to us,
of many things.
in the morning when she comes,
the bird who wakes you with her song,
she'll beat her wings.
she will rise again.
and ride a perfect high,
and find a sweet seed growing,
and never know why,
she sees anything.
one more inch,
for no more reason,
go without you even yet,
and death you sing.
pass it by with once discovered,
time to stop wasting time,
what will you bring,
you will rise again.
and ride a perfect high,
and find a sweet seed growing,
and never know why,
you hear anything.
bless the sunlight,
grab the stakes and make you over,
save the bullet,
price the sandmans head,
this time do not roll over,
beat your wings.
yeah hear them sing
of up there in the glimpse of silence
up there.
when the days have come to pass
our journey broken gone at last,
well beat our wings,
shadows take familiar skin,
so recognize them dont give in,
well beat our wings,
we will rise again.
and ride a perfect high,
and find a sweet seed growing,
and never know why,
we feel anything,
yeah anything,
yeah beat your wings.
