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