A phoenix sits upon a tree
looking at me, looking at me
and far away it sings to me
what can you see, what can you see
“I see bright fire waving haltingly
calling to me, calling to me
Memories of all that I used to be
what do you see? what do you see?”
I see grey ashes ‘round a hidden key
where is that key? where is that key?
and when was it taken so suddenly
away from me, away from me
I see a tempest rising out at sea
coming for me, coming for me
and when my song ends finally
where will i be? where will i be?
I wish I could say that it will always be
close to me, close to me
and when it dies there is more to see
more to say, more melodies
and not a voice parched from casualties
of bleeding songs whispered chokingly
dry cracked feathers settling tiredly
a sweet searing fire sighing soothingly
goodbye to me, goodbye to me
The phoenix sitting upon a tree
looks right at me, looks right at me
and when I turn reluctantly
it does not cry for me, it does not cry for me
