Butterflies with ice on our wings

Marvelous men do marvelous deeds
Across the sea in another land
Dreams are followed like herds of buffalo
Grazing their way across the plain
Until they find an iron road before them
Rising up like the cliffs of Dover
And groups of men push them onward
Where they fall and die
Like a potboiling over

Dreams are followed like flocks of birds
falling to earth like meteorites
through a sky that tastes of pollution
they plummet one by one
As if flying is outlawed for them
As dreaming will be for us
butterflies with ice on our wings