Open the door! I've been kidnapped by winter!
I Ride the galloping wind of the night!
my stirrup won't help me, my whip is as useless
I hold the wind's nape, yes, I'm holding it tight,
but soon it will drop me.. The tree-tops are howling
the thunder-struck roads are A-
flying too fast for my eyes to behold!
O, was that a city that burst into fire?
O, was that the sea I saw seething with flame? And this -
dust, fills my lungs, was a mountain A-crumbling
or was that my home I saw dusted away?
Far above
the night-heaven is always serene.
The stars see me, yawn, and switch channels
they don't really care.
They can't take responsibility for my desolation.
they are as blameless as politicians.
Below -
my home is no more.