The humble gold moon with soap sponged my eyes
The dark cloud looms to match the size
With crucifix hearts and plastic saviors
As the first man sins, the first man dies
I was grounded, then grunted, then bunted, then buried
With silver responses and chocolate mixed cherries
I thought it'd be cool to buy a front row crowd
But the last man wins, the first man dies
Because I used to be an angel healing
Now I'm just a wallfly stealing
Na na na na, na na na na...
You thought it'd be fun just to grab me and hold me
And mold me and sculpt me and casually reduce me
But pictures and paintings and numerous sculptures
Designed in the casket of golden carved horses
And operas and cruises and Shakespeare rehearsals
And two-way dimensions and skin-burning circles
Quite often I'd ask "Oh Lord, how far?"
But the quicker you burn, the closer you are
Because I used to be an angel healing
Now I'm just a wallfly stealing
Na na na na, na na na na...
The ocean's salvation reflecting its kindness
By lending us rivers and traffic upstream
And building of mountains with suit-and-tie static
And files of scavengers running the team
And I'm just a man of some twenty-eight birthdays
Hopefully still for some fifty-six years
Proposing some crossword of nonsense and sctructure
And babble on paper for childlike ears
With these lyrics for hobos defeating the purpose
Executive producing, the moments devour
It's one thing I learned from the shedding procedure
So let us rely on that holy Ghost power
Na na na na, na na na na...