Future Moon - Death Hawks

Another day under another moon

but my eye still blue

Oh the gold of the april moon

these hands created doom

The breeze from a breath

my hunter, my death

The salt in children’s tears

dry out the crops, the fields

Where the white flying swans go

They make gardens grow

Follow these eyes

pierced with light

Follow these eyes

our mutual child

Follow these eyes

shadow through time

Follow these eyes

our mutual child

Follow these eyes