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When the rooks were laid in piles by the sides of the road,
crashing into the aerials, tangled in the laundery line.
And gathered in a field, they were burned in a feathering pyre
with a cold black eye.

When the swallows fell from the eaves and the gulls from the spires.
And starlings in the millions will feed on the ground where they lie.
The ambulance men said there's nowhere to flee for your life.
So we stayed inside.
And we'll sleep until the world of man is paralyzed.

Oh the falcon heir awakes to the sound of the bells.
They're heading southbound, they're leaving it alive.
And each empty cage just rings and is heard like a bell
underneath these cold stars and this troubled night.
And the cries of man let the kingdom come to night.
let this dream be realized.

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