I shot an angel with my father's rifle I should have set it free, but I let it bleed
Made it into taxidermy, hung it on my wall On my wall
I shot an angel, kept it in my backyard Hung it out to dry on the clothing line
Pinned above my bed like the cross Of Jesus Christ On the wall
And I know one day hell will catch up with me And I'm sure that I will burn eternally
One day it will come to claim its pound of flesh When it's done, there won't be anything left
I shot an angel, dragged it to my basement Starved it till it died and I did not cry
Sickness of poacher's pride