Wings Wetted Down

Flights of black horseman soar over churches
Pursued by an army of birds in the rain
None of them can see the clouds, the polished wings don’t care
Animal ways through the hazy dreams full of pain
Wings wetted down, stumbling on the ground
It all turns around, in the end
The voices sound deadly, sometimes I hear
Echoes of empires, spread throughout the sky
Wings wetted down, stumbling on the ground
It all turns around, in the end
Flights of black horseman soar over churches
Pursued by an army of birds in the rain
Wings wetted down, stumbling on the ground
It all turns around, in the end