Mott The Hoople
Sweet Angeline
Oh Angeline, I love you, your mouth is like a sting
And when I close my eyes each night, well, I often hear you sing
Imagination's hidden book, you wrote it on the wing
When I vowed to comfort you, well, you swallowed everything
Angeline, oh my Angeline
My sweet Angeline, you have rendered me unseen
And I would cry a million smiles for my Indian City queen
Well your body, it is broken in so many different ways
And when I stoop to find your head, well it's disappeared in haze
Your blood flows like a [?], a kiss of burgundy
And where it comes from no one knows, but where it's going, I can't see
Angeline, oh my Angeline
My sweet Angeline, you know you have rendered me unseen
I would cry a million smiles for my Indian City queen
Angeline, oh my Angeline
You, little Angeline, you have rendered me unseen
I would cry a million smiles for my Indian City queen
And your crystal-coloured cardboard bins attack me from the paint
And I think that I am getting lost among the swollen states
Oh rescue me or bury me, for I care not what you do
There is just one thing that I want to say: am I really you?
Angeline, oh my Angeline
My Sweet Angeline, you have rendered me unseen
I would cry a million smiles for my Indian City queen