The falcons

[Hey, hey]
Down in the foundry we forge for us the changing bell.
Turn your back against the wind,
Spit down the wishing well.
With nothing left to waste but opportunity,
To be the lovers we have longed to be.

Now things are looking up, up, up for you.
Looking up, up, up for me.
Looking up, up, up for us.
Finally.

We cross the border line,
To wake the sleep of colour under wind turbines.
Look at the resting of the old machinery,
Rusting away a part of history.

Now things are looking up, up, up for you.
Looking up, up, up for me.
Looking up, up, up for us [hey].
Finally.

We cross the border line.

What brings you joy, will take your tears,
You've been holding back too many years.
But you were down and out of luck,
Now side by side, we're looking up.
Finally.

Looking up, up, up for you.
Looking up, up, up for me.
Looking up, up, up for us.

Time to ring that changing bell.