Besedila: Shearwater. Lost Boys.

My blistered feet turn bloody
So I take to the air
And I am everywhere, I am starlight
Oh, I am moonlight

Over burning fields and bodies
I stay close to the ground
Slipping miles from the arches and arc-lights
Into the warm night

Winged children, all
Will fly over the mountain wall
To the lid of the sky
And slice its belly full wide
With their warm knives

Not the pin-pricks of starlight
But to bathe in the bright blood
Of the world, of the world above