| When my grandfather spoke about the eagle
|
| He would raise his face up to the sky
|
| The sunlight reflecting on the water
|
| And she flew so close as she passed by
|
| But that? |
| s just an old man? |
| s story, that I have never seen
|
| Cause rich men talked about the future
|
| And big change was ringing in their ears
|
| It? |
| s a one cry slipping into silence
|
| It was one voice never more to hear
|
| The clatter of the dozers,
|
| The smoke of the machine
|
| The edge is getting closer all the time
|
| The edge is getting closer all the time
|
| So light, lightly on the wind
|
| So far from where she? |
| d always been
|
| I saw as if I could have known
|
| Leaving her home, flying alone
|
| That was the last one gone
|
| The last one gone
|
| Gone, gone in all its glory
|
| Gone and never said goodbye
|
| Gone, just an old mans story
|
| That was the last time she would fly
|
| Fly, fly lightly on the wind,
|
| Fly far, from where she? |
| d always been
|
| I saw, as if I could have known
|
| Leaving her home, flying alone
|
| That was the last one gone
|
| The last one gone
|
| That was the last time she would fly |
| Gone |