Lyrics

[Intro]

High above the treeline...

Where the last light fades away...

Something circles in the silence...

And the hatchlings cease to play.

[Verse 1]

Born to the wind, with a blade for a beak,

A ghost in the clouds with an eye for the weak.

No thunderous footsteps, no earth-shaking roar,

Just a shadow that strikes, then is seen no more.

The giants may laugh as you circle and glide,

Safe from your beak in their thick, armoured hide.

But the young and the helpless, the lost and alone,

Soon learn that the sky has a king of its own.

[Pre-Chorus]

There's blood in the shallows and nowhere to hide

When the hunter sweeps low with its wings open wide.

You can run to the Sanctuary, crawl, you can pray—

But the shadow has found you, and it's hungry today.

[Chorus]

Fly! Fly! Let the black wings spread,

A crown made of bone and a heart without dread.

You're no king of the giants, no match for their might,

But the hatchlings all tremble when you blot out the light.

Rise! Rise! Hear the cold winds call,

Too weak for the giants, but death to the small.

They run to the Sanctuary, desperate to hide;

The Pteranodon circles—and death slips inside.

[Verse 2]

Under fern-covered arches, where the newborns roam,

They mistake tangled roots for the walls of a home.

Small claws in the mud, little hearts beating fast,

Never hearing the wings till the shadow is cast.

You strike like a whisper and vanish from sight,

With a life in your beak as you climb toward the light.

For the old ones have armour, the old ones stand tall,

But the young have no answer when death starts to fall—

[Pre-Chorus]

Let the mighty ones mock you, call you fragile and frail,

A scrap of black leather adrift on the gale.

But there's blood on your beak, and there's fear in your flight,

And the smallest of creatures know your name in the night.

[Chorus]

Fly! Fly! Let the black wings spread,

A crown made of bone and a heart without dread.

You're no king of the giants, no match for their might,

But the hatchlings all tremble when you blot out the light.

Rise! Rise! Hear the cold winds call,

Too weak for the giants, but death to the small.

They run to the Sanctuary, desperate to hide;

The Pteranodon circles—and death slips inside.

[Breakdown]

YOU ARE NOT THE STRONGEST!

YOU ARE NOT THE KING!

BUT THE YOUNG KNOW THE HORROR

THAT YOUR BLACK WINGS BRING!

NO CLAWS LIKE THE RAPTORS!

NO EARTH-SHAKING TREAD!

JUST A BEAK FULL OF BLOOD

AND BLACK WINGS OVERHEAD!

[Final Chorus]

Fly! Fly! Let the black wings spread,

One flash of your beak, and the shallows run red.

You're a ghost to the giants, but a god to the small,

And the Sanctuary's no sanctuary at all.

Rise! Rise! Till the daylight dies,

A hunter of the helpless beneath blood-red skies.

And somewhere beyond, where the great shadows lie,

The Quetzalcoatlus waits for its turn in the sky.

[Outro]

The old ones keep walking.

The rivers run cold.

The hatchlings stop calling.

Their stories untold.

And high above the island,

Where the dying sunlight gleams,

The Pteranodon is hunting...

...in the land of broken dreams.