Let her wings swing, let them dangle in the sun,
Amidst the tide or through the tempest storm,
Besieged by dark or at the birth of dawn.
Let her days bloom, may there never be gloom,
Let her feathers flutter amidst life,
Take no offence at her haughtiness,
Lest you unveil your emptiness.
Let her feathers glisten,
Like a garden of peerless roses,
Let her voice echo like an angel’s flute,
Her eyes so sexy and her feathers so cute.
So let the wind blow, let the eagle soar,
Her ego so big like the lion’s roar,
Let no clock tell time, and no ocean rush its tide,
Let the moon nap and the sun hide.
Can anyone tell where the sun has made its bed?
Can anyone tell where the moon cast its shade?
Clothed in the robe of an eagle, I declaim,
Let the wind blow, let the eagle soar.
Let the wind blow, let the eagle soar.
And also with you.
« return.