feathers fall on my plate
  oh it feels just so late
  i eat feathers
  not for brunch
  but maybe at my weekly lunch
  sleep comes not so much

  for we are built of feathers
  old and gray
  the wind will blow us all away
  things never stay
  i sit here all day

  the roar inside opens wide
  if it happens to you you'll eat feathers too
  for we are built of feathers and
  the wind may bolw us away any day
  meat would taste so sweet
  as the feathers i do eat

  feathers fall like snow
  i look above and see a dove
  hope returns
  then the truth burns
  it was a crow that shook his wings
  i look down at the gound
  black feathers do i see,
  before  looked white to me

  then they turn to ash
  as i hear the crash
  i know not why we fight for land
  just some old rotting sand   
  while we sit and eat our feathers
  not for brunch
  just weekly lunch
  sleep comes not so much
  feathers fall on to my face
  oh how i hate the taste

  for we are made of feathers
  so the wind blows once agen
  and we drift
  as feathers fall on the street