Angel of New York

Photo by Anastasia Zhenina on

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.

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