People are leavingIn total frustrationThe throw up their handsPeople are leavingAs I stomp into spring(that don’t mean a thing)So:The angels are making circlesA gift to every naked fat babyBut everyone’s leavingTo look for a new place to danceAnd drilling the heart with sparrowsWe’ll try to get up from the agesAnd re-write the book of the pharaohsAt least add a couple of pagesAnd danceBefore everyone leavesThe servants are making a promiseWe’ll all rise above the depressionThe angels are making new circlesA gift to every naked fat baby