Rain

Like tin angels falling down

Like a mission and we're halfway there

From some old dried up fried forgotten town

Why

Won't they let us be ourselves

With out potential we could toe the line

And show the bastards up with our divine

Light

Seize

All the records from the past

Hold ransom all the artifacts

This ragged town protects them to the last

With lies

See them running homeward to Seattle

Deem

All the liars in your tribe

To be the fires on the westen side

Of some old froom we call the war of art

Rain

Like tin angels falling down

Like a mission and we're halfway there

From some old dried up fried forgotten town

From some old dried up fried forgotten town

To some dried up fried up forgotten

Town