The Angel he landed in the midst of Times Square
Broken and shattered and matted of hair
In the warm dirty hum of the neon bright light
He knew how to sing but had lost means of flight
Angel dear Angel son of the wind
You once looked on glory
And wished you were him
Angel dear Angel child of light
Born out of peace
But cursed through fight
The Angel jumped the turnstile and
Hopped the D train
Mankind stank of sweat, sin and shame
The Daughters of Eve didn’t look twice at him
Clothed in skins and pale and thin
Angel dear Angel choir’s delight
You once sang Gloria bathed in white light
Angel dear Angel beloved of Eloheim Adonai
You once drank the spirit but now long to get high
Bleeker Street beckoned with whiskey and haste
No time to lose, no sin to waste
Deep in the Bowery alehouse din
You looked at a young man
And called out to him.
Show me your harp, let me look upon it
Who do you speak funny?
Hey what is this?
A guitar, a fiddle a harpoon a whale
You have a bright soul…
Is it for sale?
Angel oh Angel give me a name
I want glory and money, poetry and fame
Angel oh Angel can I be what you be?
The Angel told his first lie and said:
Man, you can be me.
Up on the stage of the Bitter End
Three men sang of a love without end
One man softly moaned in the glare of the spotlight
About poets and kings and Rimbaud and flight
Angel oh Angel make me a scene
Bake me a pie, make me a king
Give me reason and beauty, faithless insight
Make me the voice of a generation
Bathe me in white white light
The Angel distilled the tears of a queen
Shot up her sadness at the state of man’s sin
Chased it with the liquor of sorrow, sadness and grief
Toasted death and the maggot
Drank a shot to the thief.
Angel oh Angel, enemy of Man
Bite at my heel
Exile me in sand
My trees bear no fruit, my sorrows multiply
My victory is certain, in spite of your lies.
The Angel decided to get outta town
Lots of knives and forks, lots of new songs and sounds
Meanwhile a monkey sat in a barber’s chair
The Angel clicked his cuban heels and combed his blonde hair
Goodbye New York….Howdy San Francisco!
Angel oh Angel, Lucifer’s your name
Prince of Lies, Earth’s temporary ruler of pain
A pint of salt, a cloth made out of sack
All hands to the plow
The King’s coming back..
Angel oh Angel, son of the wind
You looked upon Glory and wished
You were him.