Blue Oyster Cult

Wings Wetted Down
Flights of black horseman soar over churches Pursued by an army of birds in the rain None of them can see the clouds, the polished wings don't care Animal ways through the hazy dreams full of pain Wings wetted down, stumbling on the ground It all turns around, in the end The voices sound deadly, sometimes I hear Echoes of empires, spread throughout the sky Wings wetted down, stumbling on the ground It all turns around, in the end Flights of black horseman soar over churches Pursued by an army of birds in the rain Wings wetted down, stumbling on the ground It all turns around, in the end From Letras Mania