[Wind]

Hai,
Enjoi.


Last night I was a soldier, I found bullets in the sky,
Their hearts were full of evil, screaming out the word die.
And all I’ve ever done, is try, try, try;
So mother had her hand out, it was something I could not deny.

Yesterday I had a soul, nothing really mattered.
Something had gripped me, a loyal hand meant shattered
Into a million pieces, flattered
By the sky and its contents,
But those bullets wanted him to die.
Even though all he ever did, was try,
And the grip of his mother was not something he could deny—
Until he found her in pieces upon the killing floor.

Dark love is a curse; all it wants is more,
All it does is slam that door,
All it hears is the crashing shore
Or sheer numbers, four
Soldiers came home without mothers that day,
And dark love was a curse,
But none knew what was worse
Than losing a mother.


Now they sit by eternal bedsides, singing lullabies,
Even as their fingers crack flesh with what he tries,
And nobody knows how a solider feels
When his mother dies;
For his mother is the sky—
And the sky is something the enemy denies.