Roger Waters
The Fall of the Bastille
RINGMASTER
Birds flock, when winter settles in
The Harlequin with dunce's cap and silver horn
All mournful, mocking eye and painted tear
Has seen it all before
The sparrows hurl in the face of glazed imperium
Then stunned, affronted, fall
Then, picking up perch braggart on the wire and
Launch towards the south, towards the land of fire