The child doesn't know
what is matter, what's holy
he is thinking is the safe home or the sky
Questoins are too big to relice
so I try to console and help to grace
Every day he is alone
he takes his paperwings
and tries to fly
His dream is to be far from here
--Like an eaglet, that child
He is free to fly away
The same look in the eyes
The same want to win--
Little fingers touching the wings
are they breaking or lasting fight
if only I could warn of real war
paper won't save even the child
Eagle fly, fly for yourself
Take the clouds and take the moon
if you can forget your sorrows...
Selite:
Jotain vanhaa ja tosi tervettä.
- Kirjaudu tai rekisteröidy kommentoidaksesi
