In and out of the front door, ran twelve back-door angels.
Their hair was a golden-brown —
They didn’t see me wink my eye.
`tis said they put we men to sleep with just a whisper,
And touch the heads of dying dogs — and make them linger.
They carry their candles high — and they light the dark hours.
And sweep all the country clean with pressed and scented wild-flowers.
They grow all their roses red, and paint our skies blue —
Drop one penny in every second bowl —
Make half the beggars lose,
Why do the faithful have such a will to believe in something?
And call it the name they choose,
Having chosen nothing.
Think i’ll sit down and invent some fool —
Some grand court jester.
And next time the die is cast, he’ll throw a six or two.
In and out of the back-door, ran one front-door angel,
Her hair was a golden-brown —
She smiled and i think she winked her eye.