I love my angel's plastic wings, she loves my nice tight arse and things   She pawned her harp somewhere off Dalston Lane to buy A Love Supreme by John Coltrane   She said Heaven's okay but it gets as boring as sin   And here those red Rothko sunrises just do her in      She wears these contact-lenses make her look like a cat   She said I'm made out of moonlight I said I didn't know that      The crippled fiber glass kid with his collection box   She brought him to life so he could see how it rocks   He flung himself nine floors off a roof, landed face down on a passport photo booth      She's got a job waiting tables, she moves like a hearse   She said all angels are romantics but then devils are worse   She wears a dog-tag from a soldier killed in Vietnam   She's got Viva Eddie Constantine tattooed on her arm   And the mission-girls bring gifts of frankincense, myrrh and smack   But she's got everything she needs, she's an angel, she don't look back   She's got perfect rhythm, sometimes we fuck to a click-track      There's skateboarders twirling in the plaza   A slasher movie trailer on the pixel board   There's a backpacker punching at a laptop   And they're searching through a car wreck for an angel      I call her name from the rooftops through a megaphone   I see women looking like her and I follow them home   Last night I thought I saw her on the Ferris wheel   God's locked like Elvis in His mansion, it's hard to tell how he feels   So I stay home and play my bubblegum, listening for those wing beats that never ever come   On Lambeth Bridge the cars are queuing tail-to-tail   I'm gonna storm the walls of Heaven, hitch me a ride on some comet's tail