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!