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!