First time I met Angel
Up on the bridge of an ocean-going liner
She was virtue, vice, and failing
Can’t give her up now for all the tea in China
Here comes a knock on the door
Angel face with teeth like a tiger’s claw
Morning comes she’ll soon be back begging for more
Angel knows that truth has a sliding floor
No use asking me why
Some people stick like a downtown Bowery wino
If experts, preachers, mystics can’t find the answer
Then how the hell should I know?
Lost in a world breaking apart
Angel shines her mystery light into the dark
She’s not wasting blame on the rich or the poor
Angel knows that truth has a sliding floor