An angel stands upon a rose bed With thorns on each stem She cries alone She's all alone What is this world coming to When an angel must cry alone? Selfish ba*tards Have you looked in the mirror? It's a terrible sight In fact, you have broken the mirror It has torn your face off You are now a robot You and the rest of your cooperative pulses Are run by a machine, eager to earn their keep Of the innocence stolen from an angel.