The Angel

[Intro] G

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The angel rides with hunch-backed children
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Poison oozing from his engine
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Wielding love as a lethal weapon
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On his way to hubcap heaven
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Baseball cards poked in his spokes
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His boots in oil he's patiently soaked
Continues after the ad
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The roadside attendant nervously jokes
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As the angel's tires strokes his precious pavement
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Well the interstate's choked With nomadic hordes
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In Volkswagen vans With full running boards dragging great anchors
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Followin' dead-end signs in..to the sores
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The angel rides by humpin' his hunk metal whore

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Madison Avenue's claim to fame in a trainer bra with eyes like rain
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She rubs against the weather-beaten frame and asks the angel for his name

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Off in the distance the marble dome
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Reflects across the flatlands with a naked feel off into parts unknown
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The woman strokes his polished chrome
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And lies beside the angel's bones