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Masters of the Field
by
Robert Wyatt
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Up above gathered on a field of clouds, Crowded a lot down in the lowlands, Waiting for their time. Waiting and calling, calling out for rain To leave the skies down in the lowlands. Masters of the field. Wings wind set in the teeth of the wind The old beasts feathered wild beasts Masters of the field. Eagle dancers, wings that shape the wind, Carving the clouds into spirit. Sufis of the air. Dervish dancers summoning the sun To tint the mist down on the lowlands. Masters of the field. Old beasts, feathered, wild beasts, Masters of the field.
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