He swooped down,

sent from the God's,

majestic bird he was

and stole my soul.

 

The soul thief,

I call him,

he'd circled for sometime,

and knew his fate,

laid in my hands.

 

He didn't stay long,

just long enough to know,

he'd always be mine.

Then called away,

by his master,

he flew.

 

Empty,

I was,

Then I heard a record,

on the radio,

called 'bloody valentine',

with mysticism,

I felt my soul,

flying home.

It landed at my feet.

NOW I SHALL FLY SOLO !