Blackbird Raum
Silent Spring
The silent the severed the path of raven the words are deadOne thousand ladies in ribbon all adorned, underneaththe sun underneath the earth underneath an awful bannerAnd golden trumpets. they're braying like clockwork mulesin a time of plague, in a time of warThe poisoned landscape defiled by the factory pipe, thesickened land the sickened sky. Cold eyes are spying from thetop of the pyramid:the government thug, the government snitch.But I want something much more differentnot these factories of prisonsI wish that the earth was green againI wish I had a gun in my handSomeday I will come back in from the cold
From Letras Mania