Latin Quarter The Hoopoe
Way back when birds were fish
And all God's creatures swam
Who would see a virus traced
Into the diagram
That learned to swim in seas of blood
That washed the body shore
The viral tide that ebbed with you
Then turns for claiming more
Turns for claiming more
How comes is it birds for me
That always bring bad news
I see them in my dreams
And another day's accused
Of filling up with set-backs
Crises and regret
But in this swamp, amnesia
Oh, you I won't forget
You I won't forget
Oh, in a field, my field of sight
I caught a moving bird
And while we ate beneath the vines
You spoke its native word
You gave that bird a name for me
Then released it into flight
I will not forget the hoopoe
I won't forget that night
I will not forget that night
Way back when birds were fish
And all God's creatures swam
Who would see a virus traced
Into the diagram
That learned to swim in seas of blood
That washed the body shore
The viral tide that ebbed with you
Then turns for claiming more
Turns for claiming more