"He Hath Come To The Bosom Of His Beloved"
"Smiling On Him, She Beareth Him To Highest Heav'n"
"With Yearning Heart On Thee We Gaze O' Gold Wing'd Messenger Of Mighty Gods"
Gold winged Angel Go home Don't tell Anyone What you are, you're sacred
And they're starved, and their art Is getting dark, and there you are to tear apart
Tear apart, tear apart, tear apart
* You better keep your head down Better keep your head down
They're gonna' tell you what you wanna hear, then they're gonna disappear
( * )
