Songs of Fallen Angels

He whistled a tune all the way from clouds to the ground
Abandoned and soulless by the grace of God
Though to him his casting seemed a little odd
Pain and torment became his comfort found
And he sings all the songs about fallen angels
Spoons and balloons have become her daily fade
Mama’s little girl on the streets hustling cash
It was a short trip from the prom to sellin’ her ass
Johns and the white echo about how she strayed
And she mumbles lyrics about fallen angels
His hands are sweaty as he cries in the pulpit
Caught committing one of his own favorite sins
Motels rooms, bottles of whiskey and young men
The holy fall the hardest, he had to admit
And he led a hymn about fallen angels
Let ‘em eat cake, let ‘em sling some dope
Let ‘em rain down bullets upon one another
All while cheating and robbing their sisters and their brothers
And we’ll walk away having sold them all the rope
And we’ll join a choir of fallen angels