The Crow - Luke Smith

Far down below

A man stares into the fields he owns

And above flies a heathen

Thinking it’s a bluff

Hide and seek

He’ll play

On his own cause the other one’s made of hay

Standing on his own as he’s on patrol

He’ll be scaring all the scavengers from a pole

He says: «Go!»

Without uttering a word from his cross-stitched hole

And fluttering his wings as he seeks control

Over the man whose buttoned-eyes shows he’s got no soul

He says: «No, you should go!»

Says the crow

Truce on the cards

As they both hoist their white flags

Sightings of love

Till the wind picks up and the man shouts:

«Bugger off»

Standing on his own as he’s on patrol

He’ll be scaring all the scavengers from a pole

He says: «Go!»

Without uttering a word from his cross-stitched hole

And fluttering his wings as he seeks control

Over the man whose buttoned-eyes shows he’s got no soul

He says: «No, you should go!»

Says the crow

Fighting in corn fields seems silly

Especially when the other one’s heart isn’t beating

Standing on his own as he’s on patrol

He’ll be scaring all the scavengers from a pole

He says: «Go!»

Without uttering a word from his cross-stitched hole

And fluttering his wings as he seeks control

Over the man whose buttoned-eyes shows he’s got no soul

He says: «No, you should go!»

Says the crow