Kaufman's Ballad

Clouds covered stars And hide their homes from flickering Trunk of our car An angel who has lost his wings And he will shine Tonight Blueberry tree The prophet who interprets dreams Lay at his feet An angel soaked in gasoline And he will shine Tonight Smoke starts to clear Clouds refuse to disappear Dark desert night As fire is our only light A fallen angel Burn out bright Amongst the sands That took his life And flames right down About to die Pyres putting up a fight We had no choice We had to try We had no choice We had to try We had no choice We had to try