Hooded Hawks

Hooded Hawks in the night, perched on city stoops
Still as silence in the dark, killers of the avenue
The tempest bird with his shrill is blinded by his broken will
The quite scream of death ignites the oil sky
Creation sums the people switch their menace faces
Like pigeons in feeding circles that are the same in all places
With cynical eye I heard a hawk swoop, a deadly decent into garbage and soot
And the quite scream of death ignites the oil sky
I am lost anthem from falling from the sky
But like a hooded hawk I’m in the night waiting to die
I am lost anthem from falling from the sky
But like a hooded hawk in the night