From the golden brow of a morning hill de Bruce Dickinson

From the golden brow of a morning hill

Bruce Dickinson

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From the golden brow of a morning hill

As the sun breaks, above the ground
An old man stands on the hill
As the ground warms,
To the first rays of light
A birdsong shatters the still

His eyes are ablaze
See the madman in his gaze

Fly, on your way, like an eagle
Fly as high as the sun
On your way, like an eagle
Fly and touch the sun

Now the crowd breaks
And a young boy appears
Looks the old man in the eye
As he spreads his wings
And shouts at the crowd
In the name of god my father i fly

His eyes seem so glazed
As he flies on the wings of a dream,
Now he knows his father betrayed
Now his wings turn to ashes
To ashes his grave

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