This is a message for the angels: you've got a breach of security
And there's a hundred thousand demons snarling at the gates now we

Can turn our tails and run for cover
Or grab our swords and spears and shields
And send those bastards right back to their burning fields

So let me say before we go I love you all
And I'm pride to be beside you when you call
I'll take an axe right to my skull if that's what it takes to prove it to you
But something tells me I'll see you all again somehow

So let's raise a glass to Satan's army and say our goodbyes to our friends
Will we once again taste whiskey? Well I guess that that depends
On whether wings are better feathered or leather bound like seeds and bucks
But I'm betting on us, not on ugly looks