The pyramid in the sun casts a long shadow on
The Avenue of the Dead
Our temples begin to crumble and the soil turns to dust
What has happened to us?
Somewhere we went wrong, stalks of corn turning brown
And bending towards the ground
Clouds begin to gather, the furrowed brows of our gods
But rain never falls
Hand in hand we pray and plant and pray again
Send off each seed with a kiss and a blessing
To guide and light its path through the starry aftermath
The feathered serpent
Will return
Brown smoky sky, ash and flames rising high
Last thing I see before I die
First they built the fire then tied me up right there inside
And danced all night
All eyes now on mountain peak and breaking clouds
Catch a glimpse of scales and a feathered tail
Glide and then descend like a welcomed old friend
Who somehow changed
Now breathing fire
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