Neal Morse
Owl Howl
Blackbird, blackbird - what have you done?
Under the moon, old smoking gun
Silhouette of thin boys and girls
That disappear into the underworld

Pale moon in the land of loss
Paper thin are the doors of loss

As she comes and take you away
The night is cold and everlasting
Orchestrator of chaos and dismay
Hollow the halo - and empty the laughter