She takes the stage, guitar in hand.
Dressed in denim, she fronts the band.
Her face is young, her eyes are old,
darkened by dreams, burnt by the cold.

Her voice ascends, taking wing.
The house grows still to hear her sing.
A hunger's loose that she can feel.
The back-beat closes in for the kill.

And an angel sings tonight,
in the smoke-filled darkness.
An angel sings tonight,
Fallen and defiant.

Each song becomes a sacrafice,
taking her breath, stealing her life.
She takes their pain, it is the price
of a heart on the run from paradise.

An angel sings tonight,
In the smoke-filled darkness.
An angel sings tonight,
Fallen but undefiled.