I dream of bloodhounds, I dream of wild beasts.
I dream that the creatures with eyes like the lampshades
Have clawed into my wings when I reached for sky crease
And I tumbled right down like fallen angel.
I do not recall falling, I just remember
A muffled thud against cold rocks, so painful.
Could it really be true that I flew up so high and
So ferociously fell down like fallen angel.
Straight on down.
Right there, whence we have left in the hope for a better new life.
Straight on down.
Right there, whence we so eagerly looked at the shining blue height.
Straight on down.
I have tried to be fair-minded and gracious,
And nothing appeared to be frightful or antic,
That the crowds on the ground were gathering, waiting,
They came to observe how [the] angel would plummet.
Into wide open mouths the wind sweeps something,
Either white-blue snow, or sweet heavenly manna,
Or just feathers that fly and follow as odd trail
After one who has plunged like a fallen angel.
Straight on down.
Right there, whence we have left in the hope for a better new life.
Straight on down.
Right there, whence we so eagerly looked at the shining blue height.
Straight on down.