Clouds afar have watched in awe,

Time has warned but still we fall.
Every cage withholding the tune,
A caged sparrow will Surely be in view.
We've prayed and They've cursed,

We work and they watch.
Either way the clock is the one at stake.
Why try if clips aim for our wings?
What's the point of flying with shackles on our feet?
For it is Iron feathers that we surely seek.
Flying sparrows with beaks that must feed