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Horizon; the sky is grey.
And you will reap a whirlwind.
Flutter bird or else you're dead.
You will reap a whirlwind.

The poet is dead, the visionary
All love is lost now, yet he loved me.
What you have sown, you will reap.
A whirlwind.

You will reap a whirlwind.

Rise up, and mould the spearhead.
The world wants war.
So you fluttered but still haven't flown.
You will reap a whirlwind.

So follow me, my eyes have seen
His vision is clear and dawned upon me.
What you have sown, you will reap.
A whirlwind.

You will reap a whirlwind.

Seven will wait for more urgent worlds.
Movement allowed but nothing unfurls.
Setting at the rate of the summer sun
Quivering minds and all sense lost.

Horizon
Rise up.

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