Carry, carry, carry-on Crows
black gloss against the sky.
Gleaming pinions rustling
sleek dark forms hustling
through the bitter winter air.
Carry, carry, carry-on Crows
perching upon a branch.
The flock's all here
perform your leer
and lift off, all, as one.
Carry, carry, carry-on Crows
how far must you fly?
The earth-bound beasts are gazing
your fire-eyes are blazing
as you soar
away
from here.
Meep. O.O
