So many songs about angels
 
 It seems God makes 'em with his hands
 
 So I guess this mess of falling angels
 
 Must fit his immortal plans
 
 How every flower should open
 
 How every crippled bird should fly
 
 And a cry of love from the deepest darkest oceans
 
 Flies up through his brightest broken skies
 
  
  I can't point no fingers
 
 You can't do nothing more to me
 
 See here's my broken hammer
 
 (Can't play my A flat)
 
 But I'm still playin' in that key
  
 
 And in the holy saint's asylum
 
 There's this patron for lost souls
 
 Who've perjured grail for money 
 
 Mammon's kingdom and his power 
 
 All is painted glory
 
 Oh yeah glory holds a key
  
 
 But here's this broken hammer (can't fix this old piano)
 
 Seems sometimes you can't get enough of me
 
 . . . hurting
 
 As the hammer hits the key
  
 
 But if God could make them angels
 
 With only mud and dust and sand
 
 Making blood from living water
 
 Man, I think I'd understand
  
 
 He'd be in every flower that opens
 
 He'd be the first new breath of spring
 
 In the bird song high in the skies sailing clear across the oceans 
 
 Some hear his voice in every bell that rings
  
 
 They say it's God who made the angels
 
 From infinity and sand
 
 But if Heaven made the angels
 
 Who in hell made man?
 
 If God could make angels
 
 If God could make angels...
 
 ... Why in hell make man?