WHEN THE WIND IS SLOW, AND THE FIRE'S HOT
THE VULTURE WAITS TO SEE WHAT ROTS
OH HOW PRETTY, ALL THE SCENERY
THIS IS NATURE'S SACRIFIIIICE

WHEN THE AIR BLOWS THROUGH
WITH A BRISK ATTACK
THE REPTILE TAIL
RIPPED FROM ITS BACK
WHEN THE SUN SETS
WE WILL NOT FORGET THE
RED SUN OVER PAAARADISE
RED SUN