Planning permission tied to post We read when we're waiting for bus Is always double-checked 'cause we so often suspect They plan to build something on us
What they'll build, neither here nor there It's what they'll bury that counts And how far down they'll push us this time And how far back up we'll bounce
Angels are born with wings not springs Devils always born with horns And beautiful bird only bothers to sing If beautiful day ever dawns, dawns
Angels and devils ain't so easy to spot As movies like to portray A devil appears with a cunning veneer You often only notice too late
If he says he's got wings, keep an eye out for springs Make sure your angel is real And of all of these things it's the song that he sings And how the song makes you feel
Angels are born with souls, not goals Devils always search for the high So beautiful birds sing from telegraph poles And devil's song fills the whole sky, sky
Yes, birdsong belongs in the highest Of places, not where devil performs Beautiful bird and song shouldn't bother To sing if audience mutters and yawns
Mutters and yawns, mutters and yawns Mutters and yawns, it yawns, it yawns Mutters and yawns, mutters and yawnsTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.