The light slurs and boils and breaks into my eyes. Dawn pours molten gold across the sand.
The iron vultures screaming murder overhead slide like a knife into a crying land.
To take the shot? To kill or not kill? To change your mind with a whisper or a bullet?
To spare a son, or lay him low? The compass in my soul will guide me true, I know it.
It feels like summer has arrived, somewhere far away, across the poison sea.
It feels like the wind is singing songs full of promises tomorrow cannot keep.
Feels like summer has arrived
Ride out, peacemaker. Ride out, oathbreaker.
Feels like summer has arrived...