"On a delta in the river's mouth
We were born again out of the south
Songs of the field from an ancient hurt
Are buried in the mud and blood and dirt
Beautiful birds against the wind
Watching silver wings wear thin
Singing a tale of where they've been
Beautiful birds against the wind
Let his tilted heart turn in the wind
Holding out till it could not pretend
Peonies of the room have past away
Memory she blooms and begs to stay
Beautiful birds against the wind
Watching our silver wings wear thin
Singing a tale of where we've been
Beautiful birds against the wind
Oh my hardened land he cannot heal
With his calloused hands he tried to yield
Digging up the dreams buried in my chest
Hidden with a love he laid to rest"