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...

swamp, in it hands streched out,
To catch a passing dime.
Donations to the rich.
Widened pavements 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.

place where the feast never ends.
When the music celebrates.
In a time when darkness belongs,
To night skies and...
Nothing else. No...
Nothing else. No...

Tomorrow my spirit's seen,
Fears today my mind.
Soul aches to deep.
Always craves my body to reach...

place where the feast never ends.
When the music celebrates.
In a time when darkness belongs,
To night skies and...
Nothing else. No...
Nothing else.