The lights of the ashes Smoulder through hills and vales Nostalgia burns in the heart of the strongest Picasso is painting the ships in the harbour The wind and sails These are years with a genius for living
The rope is cut, the rabbit is loose Fire at will in this open season The blood of a poet, the ink in the well It's all written down in the age of reason
The animals run through harvested fields of fire The bitterness shown on face of the homeless Picasso is painting the flames from the houses This sudden rain These are years with a genius for living
The rope has been cut, the rabbit is loose Fire at will in this open season The blood of a poet, the ink in the well It's all written down in this age of reason
