BOut of the Fblue,
On the Bwings of a Fdove,
A Bmessenger Fcomes,
A, messenger, comes, C
with the beating of Cdrums,
Bbit's not a message of love
Our Bchildren are Fborn,
and Bwe keep them Fwarm,
they Bmust have the Fright
to live in the Clight,
Bbto be safe from the storm
And Bout of the Fblue,
with Bwings on his Fheels,
a Bmessenger Fcomes,
bearing Cregrets
Bbfor the time that he steals
But Bsteal it he Fwill,
my Bchildren's and Fmine,
Bagainst our Fdesires,
against all our Cneeds,
Bbour blood spilled like wine
®:
DmiDmiOver and Cover we Bcall,
No one Dmihears... and further
and Cfurther and Bfurther we Ffall...
Though we Dmibrave it, we Csoon will have Bwait
It is Dmiclear that it's no dream at Call,
our Blives are at Fstake
B, C
IB cannotF believe...
nor Beven Fpretend...
that the Bthunder I Fhear,
will just Cdisappear,
Bband the nightmare will end
So Bhold back the Ffire,
because Bthis much is Ftrue,
when Ball's said and Fdone,
then ending will Ccome,
Bbfrom out of the blue
F, Bb, F, C
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