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​The Falcon

This song is by Happy the Man and appears on the album Better Late... (1983).

Falcon:
People, as a man to you I cannot speak
My glory is one of wing and not of feet
I am a falcon, a hunter and a liege
I bring you a message
From the animals to the beast
You are the children
You are the innocent
And the deadly too
In the things you do

Listen to the dying cry of the timber wolf
A shadow of the death of man as well
This choke-damp air is upon us
All other species grieve
While man "The Thinker" thinks of games
That turn this earth to hell, hell
You are the parvenue
It is a part of you
So why defend it with your power?
Soon all these things you'll see
All of life's mysteries will be gone by you
Perhaps this hour

Spectator 1:
Maybe he speaks of a fantasy
Spectator 2:
More likely some machine in his chest
Is playing a tape from some data bank
An amusement designed for our heads
Falcon:
Fools, fools you are
All of you fools, fools you are

Narrator:
There's a cold gray sky in the morning
White mist on mountains glazed
Sun slanting shafts through evergreen's cones
Where dew in colors dance
Peace sleep here in warmed grasses
Peace belong where love's the way
In forest retreat where soft waters beat
And oceans caress gentle seas
The stories are kept in waiting perhaps
For the children to outgrow their play
Play, children to outgrow their play

Music by:

Frank Wyatt and Stanley Whitaker

Lyrics by:

Frank Wyatt