Our Dear Angel
The dark cave of the lion
still exists today.
They say you just can't help but fall on in.
Don't believe that false cliché.
Just look at our dear angel.
He gather roots to eat and then
he sleeps under the thicket by the maple tree.
A slave he'll never be.
The looking-glass the skylarks loved,
now flashes rainbows uselessly on ground
like those good-time girls who come
in the night to sell to you
a merry basked of love, but inside no love's found.
It's fears and alienation,
not what you like for me to say.
The wrinkles are too many centuries wide.
Can't masquerate them away.
Just look at our dear angel.
You know he's young inside.
The nets above won't ever let him really fly,
but still he keeps on trying.
And tall cathedrals block the light.
You'd think his light white wings weren't white anymore.
But then, filtering the darkness, hope fortunately comes shining through
and points him to the blu that was hidden before.
I know it's hard.
Keep on trying! Dear angel!
I know it's hard.
Keep on trying! Keep going! Keep trying!
I know it's hard.
I know it's hard! I know it's hard, but keep on trying!
I know it's hard.
I know i... I know i... but keep on trying!
Keep on trying, angel.
Fears and alienation, I said;
not what you like for me to say.
The wrinkes are too many centuries wide.
Can't masquerete them away.
Just look at our dear angel...
