Flocks Are Flying - Alina Simone

Carried under arm into the steppe, sermon in your ear

A low bow, flocks are flying

A kerchief to the heart, a stone around the neck

A gulp in the throat

Maybe they will forgive

A ribbon on the chest

They searched for so long

Clenched teeth, forward time

A cross under the window, tired elbows

Banner on a bayonet, fox to the chickens

A gray calm, lulled by the wheels.

Trembling veins, travelling light

Blonde and barefoot, a middle finger in your face

Running alongside on a leash

Eternal flame, florescent lights

Dark passage, eyes widen

Strong brew, cry my loved ones

Corner, candle, table, icons

Carried under arm into the steppe

Flocks are flying

Maybe they will forgive