it was a hot summer day
and my heart was running free
she called out to me to come home
but the words had gotten away from me
and i could not see the ground anymore
just the boiling sky
just the hot dream in my blood

four times she called out to me
four times she cast pieces of eight at me
but my head was locked in a stirring of wings in the skyscape
my eyes consumed by the faster drums heartbeat

when i came upon a dark bird in the height of the sky
it did know my name
it did have a bearded saint in its talons
and his weak eyes did reveal a softer way
but i did not want to succumb
so i flew harder into the setting sun

she called all night
she called into a spanish day
casting pieces of eight like they were snow
she is my home sweet home
why do i do this thing
i will never know
why fly among the cold towers of distant shore
when romances candle flickers at home

the saint carried off by the dark beast
left me with a curse or a charm
he told of me to his brethren
and now they pursue me like a flock of lies
they will chase me down till my dying day
they will come upon me in the cold light by chill waters stream
beat upon my souls eyes with wings of black
till i am captured