I am a brick of cold gray stone
Watching the city all alone
A wing of white in midnight dew
The asphalt turns a heavy blue
Tyto Noctua in the rain
Falling down like a golden grain
Broken feathers on the street
Where the oil and the water meet
Syllables of a Latin name
Wild and free in a concrete frame
He is a seed that will not grow
Under the electric purple glow
Roots of the city hold him tight
Under the humming halogen light
Silt in the gutter, dark and deep
While the tired salarymen sleep
Tyto Noctua in the rain
Falling down like a golden grain
Broken feathers on the street
Where the oil and the water meet
Dig deep in the loam and the clay
Wash the salt of the city away
Sift through the gravel and the grit
Wait for the spark of the spirit to hit
He is a blossom out of place
Tears of the drizzle on his face
Soil of the alley, black and wet
A fragile sight I won't forget
Tyto Noctua in the rain
Falling down like a golden grain
Broken feathers on the street
Where the oil and the water meet
Just a seed in the rain
Just a seed in the rain Stay still now
Stay still
