Tired Angels

Put their shoulders to the big wheel Work their fingers to the bone Take their pleasures in the future Put it down and bring it home Walk around into the sundown Looking for an honest man Gentle people seeing too much Aching to be what they can Angels, tired angels Tired down inside their shoes All wanting grace They live again in rhythm lines on the King of Gondor's face Children, gentle children Gentle leaving to the wars They found their place And live again their rhythm lives on the King of Gondor's face Sinking down into the lame words Overflowing with their sorrows Praying for it all to cease fire Saturated with desire Standing up to all the brave men Laughing hollow at the day's end Walking back and give a handshake This is just another bad break Angels, tired angels Tired down inside their shoes All wanting grace They live again in rhythm lines on the King of Gondor's face Children, gentle children Gentle leaving to the wars They found their place And live again their rhythm lives on the King of Gondor's face