Michael On Fire: Music

Seems we’re living on the edge of a shadow,
Seems we’re living in the colder times
When the truth becomes a point of view
And the law becomes a crime
In the crossfire of opinion
When all virtue turns to sin

Swim against the raging river
Fly upon Apache Wind

When the holy ones are laughed at
When the old ones go to sleep
When the buildings start to crumble
And the trees begin to weep
When the birds are lost in winter,
And don’t know where they’ve been,

Swim against the raging river
Fly upon Apache Wind

To reward with fame and fortune
When an artist sells his soul
When it’s time to bury magic
In some long forgotten hole
When the eagles become portraits
Or sculptures made of tin

Swim against the raging river
Fly upon Apache Wind