Up above gathered on a field of clouds,
Crowded a lot down in the lowlands,
Waiting for their time.
Waiting and calling, calling out for rain
To leave the skies down in the lowlands.
Masters of the field.

Wings wind set in the teeth of the wind
The old beasts feathered wild beasts
Masters of the field.

Eagle dancers, wings that shape the wind,
Carving the clouds into spirit.
Sufis of the air.

Dervish dancers summoning the sun
To tint the mist down on the lowlands.
Masters of the field.

Old beasts, feathered, wild beasts,
Masters of the field.

See also:
JustSomeLyrics
57
57.1
DJ Baby Anne This is the Sound of the Underground Lyrics
Bruno Coulais The Highest Gander (Robert Wyatt) Lyrics