Sit tight, sweetheart

A single blast bursts over the pasture. A bolt of black blocks out a ribbon of the sky. The sleepy town can't see it. They've got their eyes shut, glued tight. A warcry from the rooftops: "It's time we got organized. Organize! Take a bite from the blue, take a bite from the blue. Come on!" Cannonballs fly, punching through the clouds. "With a wave of her wand, she'll kill or save someone. So sit tight, Sweetheart. And shut your mouth." Cannonballs fall. Cannonballs fall to sink our ships. Cannonball curtains fall. Cannonballs fall like rain, curtains fall. Cannonballs fall, punching through the clouds. A cannon blast, a warcry from the rooftops. "It's time we got organized. Organize! Organize! Come on!" Cannonballs fall, punching through the clouds. "Press your face to the wall. One puff could save us all if she just chose to breathe out." Cannonball curtains block out the sun. One by one they graze your feathers off. We fly in flocks up toward the sun. One by one our friends are picked off. One by one, our friends.