In a pub in Devonshire
Just before the sun had died
Swallowed by the ocean
To bleed and paint the sky
I was baptised by a steampunk
Indian with long black mane
I used to be a pigeon
Now white falcon is my name
I run on jaded hilltops
Heart beating in my chest
By creeks in misty valleys
I lay me down to rest
In the shire in the west
I ran barefoot in the meadows
Clouds of morning rain
Caught by cobweb castles
I'll never be the same
Cause in these old yew tree forests
I let my twin soul slip away
Someday it will return
And bring tidings of a brighter day
I run on jaded hilltops
Heart beating in my chest
By creeks in misty valleys
I lay me down to rest
It was me and Cristopher Patchy
Both detested by society
And the world felt so precious and rare
Two burglars in the dragons lair
To take back what's been taken there
Cause it was me and Cristopher Patchy
And the nightingale sang in our trail
Soaring through the starry night
The conjuring of the morning light
Paved the path of the burglar's flight
Yes the morning light lit my way
And promised me yet another day