The pale, flat sun carves an existence on the end of the year sky
as people gather warmth in the shadow of the forth coming snow.
Death's at the door, can you hear, it's on the cruel north wind?
It's singing it's anthem, singing that this time life is not going to win.
But fly on, don't let that hope die down
like sickly embers begging for dry twigs and coal.
Fly, fly high, set your sights on the sky,
fly... don't let that hope rattle by.
And what is it worth but maybe another long year,
a bottle of love and a barrel of fear.
And who do you look to when you feel you need someone to blame?
From whose eyes will the tears fall when it all turns out the same?
But fly on, don't let that hope die down
like sickly embers begging for dry twigs and coal.
Fly, fly high, set your sights on the sky,
fly... don't let that hope rattle by.
credits
from The Child Time Forgot,
track released May 21, 2009
Words & music by Paul McCarthy
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