The Kite - Lycia

Standing in a field flying my kite

The string slips out of my hand

The kite, it drops out of control

Tangled and trapped on the telephone wire

Please help me, don’t walk right by

The angel’s wings are trapped in telephone wires

And nobody cares, they go out of their way

Standing on the street watching the day

A car stops in front of me

A gun, I drop out of control

I feel my blood, seeps warm out of me