Angels regarding discarded 'pinions
Can't be re bought for trinkets and rings
Ageless eyes glance at an ancient dominion
Trapped in silent and gaugeless old strings
Who's are these trees and why is this mountain
Fenced from broken old mill into town
Who is this warehouse forlorn and enormous
All the machinery's all broken down
Sandpaper; rust; oil in the lines
Waiting to fire us back to the good times
Playing out tunes on a broken guitar
Trying to bring down the fire from the stars