Black Sky

The trees are listening

Each time a missile's made

They hide three mystics

The earth sends from her grave

To tell us the future has been stolen away

By diggers, drillers and sellers

We won't stop till we're underneath the black sky

He took my picture

In the cemetery sun

My body was tempted

To crumble into one

Reunion of dust until creation's done

Returning ashes to ashes

We won't stop till we're underneath the black sky

La, la, la

La, la, la

La, la, la

The commerce the intrigue

Self-slaughtered souls

Cry out to dead poor men

For a drink at the water hole

Their tongues will burn dry

As the day they were sold for forests

Raped into deserts

We won't stop till we're underneath the black sky

La, la, la

La, la, la

La, la, la

...