Angel comes home His clothes in a cloud Of the dust and the dirt and destruction She waits inside She knows hes arrived She feels this with no introduction At Angels door You have to leave it on the floor Dont bring it in He cant show What she doesnt want to know Those things hes seen She knows the smell Of that life he cant tell Of the fires and the flesh and confusion Inside his brain Its never the same Though he tries to maintain the illusion At Angels door You have to leave it on the floor Dont bring it in He cant show What she doesnt want to know Those things hes seen Angel comes home His clothes in a cloud Of the dust and the dirt and destruction
angel, destruction, he, dirt, clothes