My Angel! Clipped wings, I know.

Wanders in darkness, on grimy ground.

In a forest, unclean, unsound.

Everything, everything's gone wild.

Make land for the cows to graze,

leaflets scatter around to advertise.

Sellout....



A swamp, in it hands streched out

to catch a passing dime.

Donations to the rich,

widened opavements for the poor,

somewhere else to lie.

But my friend the carriage door

stands slightly ajar,

and I know clipped wings make uneasy flight,

but we've gotta reach!



A place where the feast never ends,

when the music celebrates.

In a time when darkness belongs

to night's skies and

nothing else.



Tomorrow my spirit's seen,

fears today my mind,

soul aches to deep,

always craves my body to reach



A place where the feast never ends

a moment when the music celebrates

and a time where darkness belongs to night's skies and

nothing else