Hooded Hawks

Hooded Hawks in the night, perched on city stoops

Still as silence in the dark, killers of the avenue

The tempest bird with his shrill is blinded by his broken will

The quite scream of death ignites the oil sky



Creation sums the people switch their menace faces

Like pigeons in feeding circles that are the same in all places

With cynical eye I heard a hawk swoop, a deadly decent into garbage and soot

And the quite scream of death ignites the oil sky



I am lost anthem from falling from the sky

But like a hooded hawk I'm in the night waiting to die

I am lost anthem from falling from the sky

But like a hooded hawk in the night