Angels wearing world worn blue jeans,
never telling the tales that they've seen,
seen tractors pulling cow's daydreams,
bending boundaries around moon beams.
Twisted little monkeys mingling in trees
high on God's golden zephyr breeze.
Mother could you come home please?
Before the gray blue iceberg freeze.
Angels wearing world worn blue jeans,
never telling the tales that they've seen,
seen tractors pulling cow's daydreams,
bending boundaries around moon beams.