Hooded hawks in the night, perched on city stoops Still as silence in the dark, killers of the avenue The tempest bird with his shrill is blinded by his broken bill
The quite scream of death ignites the oil sky Creation sounds the people switch their menaced faces Like pigeons in feeding circles that are the same in all places With cynical eye, I, hooded hawk swoop a deadly descent into garbage and soot
And the quite scream of death ignites the oil sky I am lost and forgotten, falling from the sky Like a hooded hawk in the lightTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
