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