Spanish Quartet - Waxwing

How the god is mixed in

The evil it does blend

In this drink that we all taste

And when the bottle is gone

I hope I can look upon

All that I’ve done with a smile

And bright and overflowing eyes

Reflecting upon all they’ve seen

With the same glow as the

Child born March 8th 1977

Please make my arrow shoot straight

I’m tired of all the shots that missed

It’s one thing that I won’t miss

Betrayal in a kiss

When I finally hit my target

There were four hands that held the bow

And I realized I am not alone

I am not the only archer

Not alone with crooked arrows

Not alone with these crooked arrows