Rain 

Like tin angels falling 

Down 

Like a mission and we're 



Halfway there 

From some old dried up 

Fried forgotten town 

Why 



Won't they let us be ourselves 

With our potential we 

Could toe the line 

And show the bastards up 



With our divine 

Light 

Seize 

All the records from the past 



Hold for ransom all the artifacts 

This ragged town protects 

Them to the last 

With lies 



See them running heading 

Homeward to Seattle 

Deem 

All the liars in your tribe 



To be the fires on the 

Western side 

Of some old front we call 

The war of art 



Rain 

Like tin angels falling 

Down 

Like a mission and we're 



Halfway there 

From some old dried up 

Fried forgotten town 

From some old dried up 



Fried forgotten town 

To some old dried up fried 

Forgotten 

Town